


Riddles

by Maizeysugah



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Harry, Domestic Violence, Drama, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-11 05:06:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 54,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4422527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maizeysugah/pseuds/Maizeysugah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Potter finds out his real father is Tom Riddle the same day both of his parents commit murder/suicide. Now a widower, James is doing the best that he can to stay alive and raise his small son, Harry. Unfortunately, his father has big plans for his perfect grandchild, like steal him away and make him the perfect little Death Eater and future Dark Lord that James had failed at becoming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Emperor's Little Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Main Pairing: DM/HP  
> Other Pairings: LV/HP SB/JP LV/BL  
> I wrote this, as my other fiction, several years ago and never finished it. I'm doing that now, and tweaking the completed chapters. Yep, I know already. You don't like it, thank you.  
> 11/18/16 I am working through a seemingly endless bout with writer's block. I know why this fic seems so disjointed, I changed the relationship between Lord Voldemort and Bellatrix shortly before posting it up here. I hadn't written anything more than my signature over the last seven years of writer's block and I see how badly I mangled this important plot point in the story. Over the next week I'm going to go through this tale and repair it. Lord Voldemort was terrible to his wife, and it should stay that way. Changing them hurt this story and I hate that I did that. I loved writing this :(

　

Prologue:

A small boy stood with his head hung low in front of the twelve men and women answering each of their questions as best he could. No one cared that he was crying. He was the Dark Lord’s boy now.

“Is it my understanding that all testing has been done and this child is the true pure-blooded descendant of Salazar Slytherin?”

“That would be correct.” Lord Voldemort placed his hands on the child’s shoulders.

“And his deceased mother, she was also tested and proved to be of pure-blood heritage?”

The large hands on the boy’s shoulders tightened their grip. “This has all been documented. These formalities are growing tiresome.”

The twelve witches and wizards behind the bench all appeared shaken. Papers flew over the side as they scrambled to end the hearing as quickly as possible.

At last, one spoke as he banged his gavel over the bench. “I beg your forgiveness, my Lord. It is hereby stated and written into document that the ten-year-old wizard James Potter is rightfully and without question the new heir of Slytherin. He is forever now to be called upon as such and take his biological father’s given birth-name ‘Riddle’.”

* * *

 

October, 1981

Sirens screamed out into the still night. A crowd of people gathered on the corner to watch the small home smolder and crumble to the ground. Two police officers walked a young man back to their car, and medics wheeled out a corpse hidden beneath a white sheet.

Sirius Black stood in the shadows cradling a toddler in his arms. He watched the vehicles leave in silence.

A Muggle woman ran screaming through the street. “ _Where is the baby?! The baby is missing!_ ”

Sirius pulled a nursing blanket over the child and gripped his wand. “Let’s head to my place, Harry. Daddy will be home soon.”

* * *

 

Lord Voldemort paced back and forth in front of his council. “This matter is closed. My son did not kill that Muggle-born witch.”

Each member nodded in agreement. “Of course he hasn’t, my lord.”

“That has yet to be proved,” Albus Dumbledore said. He stood up and gave a brief nod to both of the councils before turning his attention to the Dark Lord. “Mr. Riddle cannot remember anything that happened that evening, of that we are certain. His mind was tampered with, no doubt by someone who was either attempting to exonerate him or cover up their own crime.”

Voldemort glared back at the elder wizard. “It’s not my job to find these things out - it’s yours. You’ve got nothing on him. I want these charges dropped immediately.”

James sat unmoving in the back of the room. “Get up!” his father hissed. He looked over to his friend, Sirius, and shrugged.

A woman on the Phoenix council sighed, garnering Voldemort’s attention. She could no longer contain her anger. “The Phoenix Order will not drop these charges! A witch has been murdered!” Albus held up a hand to calm her. She pushed it away. “Why don’t you just come out and say it?”

Lord Voldemort turned to face the distressed woman. “Say what, Minerva?”

She stood from her seat. “That Lily was Muggle-born and not worth your time. She was your son’s wife and the mother of your grandson and you won’t even speak her name.”

“Ridiculous,” he murmured, and ran his hand through his thick ebony hair. “I’ve been very generous to the Muggle-born community. Do they not attend Hogwarts now? Can they roam freely in the streets with half-bloods and pure-bloods without wearing anything to identify them as such anymore?”

“Yes, but only because of our fight-”

“James and that woman were part of your Phoenix council! You turn your backs so quickly on one of your own when it fits your cause… I won’t stand here any longer being ridiculed by this woman— _JAMES, GET UP_!”

James and Sirius stood up and walked out of the courtroom. Lord Voldemort followed closely behind… and no one said a word.

* * *

　

Riddles

　

May, 1983

The dimly lit room flickered with a silvery glow as endless bolts of lightening flashed across the indigo sky. Bent over his desk in desperate attempt to finish his statement, James growled at the sound of the door opening to his den.

“Daddy has to work,” he said, listening to the shuffle of pyjama-clad feet pad across the wooden floorboards. “Go back to bed.”

Another thunderous rumble shook the room. Harry clapped his hands over his ears. “Afwaid.”

Dropping his quill on the desk, James beckoned the toddler over. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. Come on, I’ll tuck you in.”

He dropped him on the bed and tickled his sides until he giggled. “Would you like me to leave the light on?” he asked, pulling the child’s duvet up to his chin. He smiled down at the boy, who looked back at him with sparkling eyes and cherry-stained lips. “I’m nearly finished. If I don’t get this work done your grandfather will gut me from stem to sternum.”

“Tom!”

James kissed his forehead and ruffled his hair. “I’ll be back to bed within an hour. Don’t let the thunder frighten you. Moony here will keep you company.” He placed the boy’s favourite toy, a tattered plush werewolf, into his duvet.

“Okay.” Harry’s thumb found its home between his lips and his lashes fluttered closed as James put a silencing charm on the window and backed away.

 _“Narcissa said the child was lovely.”_ He jumped at the sound of the voice and turned, seeing Lucius Malfoy standing in the bedroom doorway. He was only a few years older than James, but his rank in the Death Eater council was that of Second in Command. He glared at the other with cold, grey eyes.

“Keep it down!” James whispered, ushering the young Death Eater out of the room.

* * *

 

Lucius leaned back against the den wall as James scrambled through his paperwork. “You have the statement? I’m here to deliver it to your father. He said he wants it yesterday.”

James grabbed his quill and jotted a quick sentence down. “Right here,” he said, and held up a thick stack of parchment.

“Wonderful. This should keep you out of Azkaban for another year or so.” Lucius rolled the papers up and shoved them in his pocket.

“I didn’t kill her. I would never hurt her.”

The white-haired man’s eyes narrowed. “Whatever, like I give a shite about that whore. Tell Sirius to bring that child with him to his mother’s tomorrow. There’s no need for you to come. Narcissa wants little Harry to mingle with our son.”

“Oh? You want your precious boy and my dirty-blooded boy together in the same building?” James scoffed and shook his head. “No thanks.”

“He’s a half-blood, James. That’s completely acceptable in this day and age. Besides, your father and my wife have been talking. They think it would be wonderful for little Harry to begin learning culture before you and your friends turn him into…well, how shall I put this as to not offend you?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. He smiled at the other man, giving him teeth. “Just kidding, I don’t give a fuck if I offend you. Your father loathes the idea of him becoming something like _you_.”

James stood from his chair, knocking it backward. “Get out, Malfoy.”

Lucius held his wand up. “I’m certain your father will persuade you to change your mind.”

James stumbled out of the den when he apparated away, intent on falling into a much-needed deep sleep. Careful as he could, he slipped under the covers and curled up next to Harry. His eyes closed, his mind drifted to thoughts of the one he loved.

* * *

 

A loud and persistent knock stirred James awake. The bright sun peeked through the blinds, letting him know it had been a lot longer than the few minutes he’d thought he’d slept. “I’m coming!”

Lord Voldemort stepped inside and placed his wand back into his jacket. “Don’t bother. I’ve let myself in.”

“Fuck…” he said with a sigh, and pulled his jeans on. “I’ll be right out. Harry’s hopping all over the bed to see you.”

The bedroom door flung open. Voldemort walked in and held his arms out. “Where’s my pretty little baby?”

Harry dropped his Moony doll and squealed with delight as he ran into his arms. Voldemort pulled a sugar quill from his pocket and dangled it over the awestruck boy’s head. “Sugar for sugar.” The toddler grabbed his cheeks and showered him with a million kisses.

“Don’t give me that look. I wasn’t up drinking all night, I was writing that statement,” James said, noting his father’s fresh glare. “Oh, and sending your favourite toady over to fetch it for you? That was very classy, Tom.”

“The Order is relentless in their pursuit to dethrone me. Every step must be taken to stamp the whole lot of them out before their power grows.” Voldemort brushed the long fringe from Harry’s eyes. “And this is the one who will do it. My perfect baby, my precious Harry.” He cupped his arm around him and lit a cigarette, the anger he’d lost returning in his eyes. “Fucking Mudbloods mingling with our kind in the streets, in our school without arm badges…can you fucking believe that?”

James walked to the kitchen and put a kettle on the stove. “The Order has no power without me. I don’t know what you’re afraid of. Anyhow, Malfoy said you asked for Harry to be taken to the Blacks so he could begin his Death Eater training. Isn’t he a bit young for the Dark Mark, Tom?”

Voldemort tapped his ashes in Jame’s empty mug. “Your humour is still as flat as ever. I was hoping their child’s extended vocabulary might rub off on this one. Honestly, James, he’s nearly three and cannot speak more than a few words.”

Observing the man and the baby drooling all over each other as they headed back to the boy’s bedroom, James faked a dry heave. When they returned, Harry was dressed in a navy-blue sailor suit with matching hat to cover his unruly hair. He looked awful. “Why are you here anyway? I thought Sirius was taking him.”

The Dark Lord shook his head. He waved his wand back towards the bedroom. “ _Accio bag!_ I’m taking Harry with me to Scotland.”

James swallowed hard, finding his voice missing.

Voldemort lifted the boy into his arms and raised his wand. “I have to turn your statement in, and I thought I’d merge it with the Hogwarts meeting. Good morning, James.” With a loud _*crack*_ he and the baby were gone.

“You can’t just…take him whenever you want without my permission…” he whispered. “Damn you…”

* * *

 

“James Riddle, what are you doing here without that baby?”

James looked up as he entered the front door of the London home. He smiled and waved at the elderly woman glaring back at him. “Good afternoon, Walburga.”

“You were supposed to bring little Harry with you. Narcissa brought her son over to play with him.” Walburga Black wrung her hands together. She did not care one bit for the emperor’s son.

“My father will be returning from Scotland shortly. He has Harry,” he said, and took his coat off.

“Then why did you come?” She turned and left before he could answer.

“Hey! I thought I heard screaming!” Sirius jaunted down the main stairs and stopped in front of his friend. As quickly as he entered the room, he planted a chaste kiss on James’s lips. “Go make your pleasantries so we can get out of here.”

James debated it for a second before walking into the sitting room. Narcissa sat forward in her chair scowling back at him. His eyes roamed the room, stopping on the child sitting in the corner.

White-blond ringlets of hair cascaded down onto his silky-clad shoulders. He was terribly feminine and pale, but much larger than Harry. The toddler looked back at him with large pale grey eyes.

He smirked at the pretty woman. “So this is your…son?”

“How dare you,” Narcissa growled, gripping the arms of her chair. “Get out, you weren’t invited! My son is a lovely child! Lucretia, Bellatrix, get in here and deal with this!”

“I think that’s enough torture,” Sirius whispered through an impish grin. “Let’s go back to your place now.”

James tossed her a rude gesture as he turned to leave. “Right.”

* * *

 

Lucius pushed off of the wall he was leaning against as the Dark Lord approached. He jerked his head to a large set of double doors. “They’re waiting inside for you, my Lord.”

“You’ve met my grandson, Malfoy?” Tom held him up for proper viewing.

“Yes, I’ve seen him. Beautiful boy.”

The doors opened and Molly Weasley popped her head out for a look. She zeroed in on the child and clapped her hands together before outstretching them to Voldemort. “Oh, my Lord, you’ve brought Harry! May I?”

“Thank you, Molly,” he said, passing the toddler into her arms. All remaining council members lit up with enchantment as the baby was shown off. Molly, having seven of her own, decidedly kept him on her hip as the meeting progressed.

“…with the new headmaster being introduced shortly, I am hoping he is acceptable in your eyes and you will make him feel very welcome.”

Lord Voldemort signalled for Severus Snape to be called into the room.

Arthur Weasley gasped as the young man with stringy-black hair entered. “He’s only a boy, my Lord. Albus was a wonderful leader here, I don’t understand your-”

“Pardon my interruption, sir, but Dumbledore is not fit to teach these students with his defiant outlook. He’s given Muggle-born children the rights of pure-bloods, letting them learn defences and potions! I simply cannot allow that!” He shouted back, pounding his fist on the table. Everyone jumped at the booming voice, the room grew silent.

Snape looked around at all the shocked stares. “Lively bunch.”

Alastor Moody and Frank Longbottom both gave him a slight nod. It was not returned.

Harry pulled at his hat as he grew bored and sweaty. “Off, Tom!”

Minerva waved him over and Molly dropped the boy in her lap. He cooed and snuggled with the older woman while she doted on him. Everyone around them began to take notice. He was indeed a powerful tool, softening the mood as his grandfather had suspected.

“It is unfortunate, but I must leave now before the little one throws a tantrum. Misters Malfoy and Crouch will remain and take care of any further unfinished business.” He took Harry into his arms and walked to the door. “Good afternoon.”

* * *

 

Apparating into the garden of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Tom and the child walked into the house. Walburga, Narcissa, and her sister, Bellatrix, ran into the foyer to greet him.

“Oh, my Lord, thank you so much for coming,” Walburga said, passing Harry over to Narcissa and taking his coat. She and Bellatrix ran off into the sitting room after saying their hellos and dropped the small boy down next to the Malfoy child.

Tom stood in the entryway to watch his grandson, feigning listening to Mrs. Black ramble on about something or another.

“He’s just too precious for words. It’s a pity he’s James’s boy. Look at those eyes!” Bellatrix cupped the child’s face and squeezed it. “He’s a real doll. Just as adorable as Draco.”

Harry looked down, ignoring the fawning over him as he spotted a plush toy. The red dragon was plucked up and looked over carefully before being held. Draco gasped. He reached out and took the toy back. “That’s mine!”

Harry’s chin quivered as he looked back at his grandfather. Large tears welled up in his eyes.

“Draco, play nice,” Narcissa pulled the toy from his fingers and handed it back to Harry.

Voldemort stepped forward and opened his bag. “Nonsense,” he said, handing his grandson Moony. “He has his own things to occupy him.”

There was an uncomfortable silence that filled the room then. The Dark Lord was intimidating to be around. He stood over the two women as they played with the toddler boys for several minutes. It was an agonising time for them, praying Draco wouldn’t harm his precious grandchild or say something wrong. Eventually, he grew bored and wandered off, giving them both a bit of relief.

Tom was a beautiful man. He was tall and lean, with dark eyes and thick hair. He could easily melt the heart of any woman who caught glimpse of him. But his cold dead demeanour chilled bones and emptied rooms. He was a feared and worshipped man. No one would stand up to him.

In a matter of minutes, Harry and Draco began pushing toy trucks across the Persian rugs, clattering loudly as they tried to outdo each other. Narcissa giggled as she watched them play. She looked behind her to be sure her and her sister were alone. “He’ll marry soon, I suspect.”

Bellatrix glanced around the room nervously. She swept the ruffled black hair from her face, feeling quite flushed. “Keep your voice down.”

“Well, he isn’t getting any younger…and neither are you. It is odd he hasn’t taken a wife yet.”

Pulling at strands of her hair, twisting them taut, Bellatrix shrugged. “I’m already spoken for. It just hasn’t been announced yet. Besides,” she said, lowering her voice, “there are rumours flying around about that Potter woman he impregnated. Nasty ones.” She leaned over, putting her lips on Narcissa’s ear. “He didn’t have an affair with her, that he raped her. Rodolphus heard there was a report filed by her and her husband at the Ministry exactly nine months before James Potter was born.”

Narcissa gasped. “Are you joking?”

“Girls!” Both women jumped from Walburga’s shout. “Lord Voldemort must take his leave. Please gather his grandson’s belongings this instant!”

Lifting Harry into his arms, Narcissa stroked his hair. “Poor little boy,” she said. “I hope it isn’t true.”

* * *

 

The sun began setting low, casting deep tones of pastel orange and violet hues across the sky. James propped his head on his hand as he watched the natural art form vivid patterns in the clouds. “Not going to be too many days like this left. Nothing is as lovely as a brilliant spring night.” He shuddered as a soft breeze kissed his bare chest. He rolled over, curling into Sirius’s supine form for warmth.

“Nothing is as lovely as you.” Sirius wrapped his arm around James’s waist and ran his fingernails across the small of his back, increasing his shivers.

“Oh, I nearly forgot! Guess who the new headmaster of Hogwarts is.”

Sirius snorted. “Not Dumbledore I presume…”

“Not even close.”

Leaning into James, Sirius cupped his chin. “Tell me later,” he whispered as his lips pressed over James’s. They moved slowly, caressing each other’s faces as they kissed. Their hands wandered over their chests and down the fronts of their trousers. Unzipping his jeans, James bent over his friend and teased his hardened length with the tip of his tongue. Sirius propped himself up on his elbows, letting his head fall back.

The sounds of fresh grass being crunched underfoot startled them both. They looked back towards the house with wide eyes, seeing Lord Voldemort standing at the edge of the garden. Sirius pulled his zipper closed and hopped up, grinning at the older man. James groped around for his glasses and shoved them on his face to be certain that he was in very big trouble.

“You’d better go before he kills you,” he whispered to Sirius.

“It’s not me who I’m worried about,” he warned. Watching the emperor tapping his wand against the palm of his hand, he transformed himself into a very large dog and ran off across the garden.

* * *

 

Lord Voldemort paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. “You’ll ruin me. I’ve finally gained more control over the wizarding world than anyone else and you try and fuck this up by sleeping with that boy right out in the open. Anyone could have seen you. You told me you ended this, James. I specifically recall you telling me _TO MY FACE THAT YOU ENDED THIS_!” He pointed his wand at his son, trembling with rage.

Harry wailed at the top of his lungs from the bedroom.

James turned away, wincing. He was unsure whether the curse about to strike him would entail pain or death. He waited for nearly ten seconds before opening an eye, and finding his father gone.

* * *

 

“No, no, don’t cry. Look what I’ve got for baby.” Voldemort placed a liquorice wand in Harry’s tiny hands. He sat in contemplation as the child bounced on his knee. “Your daddy is a very bad boy. He shouldn’t expose you to this lifestyle.”

“Bad boy,” repeated Harry.

“Yes…just awful, ruined.” Voldemort looked around the room. He turned the child around and sat him in his lap, holding him at the waist. Harry ran his hand along his face, rubbing the stubble on his cheek. “He’ll ruin you. He was too old, I was too late to fix him…I should have taken him earlier. I had no idea they’d spoil him so badly.”

He sat the boy down on the bed and stood up. He walked to the cupboard and pulled out a large overnight bag. “He’s not even a Parselmouth. ~ _But you…you understand me, don’t you, my sweet angel?_ ~”

Harry clapped his hands at the delightful sound. He always loved when his grandfather spoke the special words to him that way. “~ _Yes!_ ~”

“What’s going on?” James stood in the doorway, watching his father pack up Harry’s belongings. “Tom, whatever you’re thinking about doing—“

“I’m taking the boy,” he said without looking at him.

“No, you can’t do this!” James dashed towards the bed but Voldemort shoved him aside. He fell to the floor in a heap, with tears streaming down his cheeks. “He’s all I have!”

Cupping the child’s head against his chest, the Dark Lord stood over his son. “I gave you everything. Money and power, the freedom to do as you pleased as long as you didn’t embarrass me. But that wasn’t good enough for you. You ran off and got that Mudblood-whore pregnant and then you married her at the Phoenix headquarters, spitting in my face once more. Let those people haul your arse off to Azkaban. No one will rescue you this time, boy.”

“He’s all I have,” he cried again, clutching Voldemort’s trouser cuff.

“Ah, but you have Sirius now. It’s only a shame you can’t get him pregnant, too.” He kicked his son’s hand off and walked out of the room to disapparate. “And don’t bother staying in touch. I’ll let you know when you are forgiven.”

Hearing the loud _*crack*_ from the disapparating spell ring out from the hallway, James crumbled to the floor in despair.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so if you'd like to tell me how psychotic this fic is and the characters are all over the place just leave me a comment about it anonymously and say whatever mean-girl thing you'd like to say, then delete it because you aren't brave enough to leave it there even though it's anonymous. And maybe you've never taken the time to tell an author you liked their work but you'll sure as hell tell them when you don't bcause that's just you...Thank you, I'm very aware this work isn't good, but go ahead, tell me again anyway.


	2. Daddy's Little Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Voldemort takes in interest in finding a permanent nanny to rear his boy while James runs off with Harry before he notices.

The Dark Lord sat in the back of the room watching the proceeding in silence. James Riddle’s trial was the talk of the town. Several of his members filled the seats around him. Things had gotten sketchy after the fallout with his son. The Phoenix Order had welcomed the boy back with open arms, and he was now taking his honoured seat in place of their ailing leader.

A booming voice cleared its throat and the crowd of people watching dropped their chatter to a dull whisper. “I hereby state for the record that James Riddle, age twenty-four, has been found not guilty of the charge of murder of his late wife, Lily Evans. His reinstatement to the Order of the Phoenix is a blessing. He has promised to put all of himself into his position while our dear leader and friend, Albus Dumbledore, lay suffering from dragon pox.”

Bellatrix sat beside the Dark Lord holding Harry in her lap. She had been given the honour of watching the boy and keeping him silent. The child was never to leave her or his grandfather’s sight. She didn’t mind, she adored the little toddler. He was much calmer than Draco and he listened to every word she said. He was such an unusual little boy, doting on the woman, hugging her neck whenever she and he were in the same room.

Sitting opposite of her, Fenrir Greyback bobbed around in his seat and dropped a hand on her thigh. His eyes roamed from her to the child over and over, his lips quivered. “Stop it,” she whispered, pushing his over-sized hand off of her leg. He laughed and smacked his lips at her as she squirmed.

“Moony…”

The werewolf toy had tumbled to the floor and Harry reached out to pick it up. Fenrir bent down to his level, grazing his chubby cheek with the backs of his fingertips. “Aren’t you lovely, little one? Let me get that for you.”

“Don’t touch him!” Bellatrix yanked the boy into her breast and stood up. The rangy man smiled and handed her the doll.

“What a slap in the face,” Lucius murmured, taking his place at Voldemort’s side as the courtroom began to empty. “Taking him back will up their status considerably. It won’t matter that old Dumbledore is ill anymore. Look at them; they think they’ve got you by the short-hairs.” He rammed his fist in his palm, glaring over at the council members as they took their leave.

“Indeed.” Tom snapped his fingers at Bellatrix to get her attention. “We’re going. Take Harry home, woman.”

“Yes, my Lord,” she said, risking one last glance at the Death Eater behind her. Fenrir chuckled and took her arm to escort her and the child to safe disapparating ground.

“Lucius, you know what this means, don’t you?” said Voldemort. He looked around the now empty room with narrowed, blood-shot eyes. “We will have to remove one or two of them…permanently. Take Avery, Bellatrix, and Barty with you, keep it quiet.”

The handsome Death Eater grinned. “It would be my pleasure, sir.”　

* * *

 

“...Yes, of course, Mrs. Malfoy. I’d certainly entertain the idea.” Lord Voldemort sat back in his overstuffed chair, smiling at the charming blonde‘s head in his fireplace.

Narcissa beamed; truly honoured she would be allowed to take part in the nurturing of his small child. “Perhaps we could have lunch, or would that be too imposing, my Lord?”

“Lunch would be fine. I’ll be expecting you shortly then.” He watched Narcissa fade away and flicked his cigarette into the fireplace. A large brown owl sat on the desk behind him, waiting to deliver the message attached to her leg. He sighed and walked over, taking the letter and shooing it off.

 **Please let me see Harry today**.

Crumpling it up, he tossed it into the fire. He looked at the time, noting it was nearly eleven in the morning. He would have to get the child ready for their company. “Harry, where are you?” he said. He had noticed that it had gotten quiet inside Riddle House, he pursed his lips and looked around the room.

“I know you like to hide, sweetheart, but we’ve got to have a bath. We’re going to lunch. Come out now.” Voldemort walked out into the hallway, seeing various toys littered along the floors, creating a trail leading directly to his grandson. Sitting in the master bedroom, Harry looked up, smiling from underneath a mountain of royal velvet robe material swathed around him. He was trying to put it on his pet snake.

“I haven’t seen this in years…Where did you get it?” he asked, holding up the gaudy article. “And I doubt Nagini wants to wear it. They typically don’t wear clothing. Do you, girl?” Harry stood up, thrusting his arms out to be held. Voldemort snapped his fingers, signalling a house-elf to come clean the mess up. He turned back around to pick the child up, but he was gone. Closing his eyes, slowing his breathing, he counted to ten before resuming his search. “Where did he go?” he asked the enormous serpent, watching her slither off into the hallway. The small child was such a handful, far too much trouble for such a busy man.

* * *

 

Draco stood at the side of his mother as she sat at the luncheon table across from Lord Voldemort. His eyes were locked onto the small black haired boy bouncing up and down on the older man’s knee, peeking over at him every few seconds. The delicate boy bunched his hands up in his shirt, pulling it free from his trousers. He chewed on his bottom lip as he watched little Harry, wanting to gather the courage up to speak to him without the scary man getting annoyed again. He let his long silver hair fall into his eyes, hiding his bashful appearance as he looked down at his shoes, unable to make the words come out of his mouth.

“He turned three last week,” Narcissa told him. She removed his hands from his shirt and tidied it up, smiling with appraisal at her beautiful boy. “He’s just a bit shy around other people. We haven’t introduced him into society as of yet.”

Lord Voldemort nodded in understanding. “You can imagine my initial worries about Harry, being a half-blooded bastard and all, but he’s a wonderful child. I figure he’s just too big of a responsibility for me to handle alone.” He set Harry down and gave him a light shove towards Draco. “Sit down and be a good boy while I speak with Mrs Malfoy.”

Harry plopped down on the floor. Draco sat down in front of him, his stare never leaving the smaller boy. Narcissa plunged her hand into her large carpet bag and dropped several toys between them.

“I was wondering if you were bringing Harry along to the Hogwarts celebration. Bellatrix and I could keep him…if you wouldn’t mind too terribly. I know how busy these things make you, but it would be a shame to leave the child at home when everyone wants to see him.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. I was going to leave him with James that night, but that’s much more acceptable. I’d love to show him off to the new staff.” Hearing the name Bellatrix brought a wicked smile to his lips. “And your sister will be there? Harry just adores her. He’ll be thrilled.”

Narcissa nodded and smiled. “We could dress them as little Hogwarts students. Slytherin colours, of course.”

“She’ll make a good mother,” he continued, returning her smile, “she’s lovely with him.” Voldemort sat back and sparked a cigarette, watching Narcissa gather herself together from the statement. It was the reason he had agreed to this sitting. Having a quiet lunch with a woman was not normally on his list of things to do.

Narcissa was blushing but hiding it well under his long tendrils of golden hair, and her smile was as bright as ever as she looked back at the man. “Bellatrix…Oh, she just adores him. Such a strong woman, isn’t she?”

Voldemort grinned. “Yes, yes she is. Not bad on the eyes, either. I hear she’s got a wicked temper and demands everything be done her way. Is she spoken for? She’s a bit old to be unmarried. What is she, about 35?”

Her eye twitched, noting in her head that the man himself was in his late 50s. She tucked the image of he and James’s mother away, praying it was only a rumour and he wasn’t as awful to women as they’d envisioned. It would be a strong move if her sister married him, it would cement their status and they’d become part of the lord’s elite. This would be for the best. “32, my Lord. She is dating someone but I’m sure that would change if you showed her any interest.”

“Indeed,” he said, grinning. “I’m planning on showing her loads of it.”

* * *

 

“There you are.” Voldemort walked over to the spot beside Bellatrix. He was bouncing Harry in his arms, letting the boy kiss his face again and again. “I have to do a lot of schmoozing today, keep a close eye on my little prince here.” He hugged the child and kissed him on the lips. “Tom loves you, baby angel. Be a good boy for Bella and daddy will get you some candy when this is over.”

Harry threw his arms up as Voldemort set him on his feet and walked away. “Hold, Tom!” He started off after him, but Bellatrix curled her long fingers around his arm and pulled him back. “Hold, Tom!”

“You’re staying with me this evening, Harry. Won’t that be fun?” she said, giving him a warm smile. He looked back for his grandfather, letting his lip jut out as the impending cry worked its way to the surface. His breath came out in short bursts and Draco snorted in amusement at his sorrow, causing him to hold his breath.

“He’s such a baby,” he chided, tugging on his mother’s dress. “He’s cwying over nothing.”

Narcissa, standing between them, scowled. “What have I told you about saying things to upset him, hmm?” Draco cringed. “Apologise this instant.”

The boy looked back at Harry, who was wiping away large alligator tears from his cheeks with the sleeve of his Slytherin robes. “Sowwy,” he said, lowering his head.

Harry looked into the crowd, searching for Lord Voldemort. His eyes caught a glimpse of Remus Lupin weaving in and out of the crowd, keeping his head low. “Moony!” he called out, the voice lost in the chatter of the people surrounding him.

“I said sowwy,” repeated Draco, appalled at being ignored. Narcissa turned Harry around, facing him toward her son. “Sowwy!”

“Okay!” Harry shouted back, craning his neck to look back into the crowd. If Moony was there, maybe his daddy was, too.

Narcissa gave Draco a small shove towards Harry, urging him to give him a hug. Draco wrapped his arms around the smaller boy. She swooned at the darling sight. “You two are so adorable together! Let me find someone with a camera, stay just like that!”

Harry sighed as Narcissa and some man with a camera stood in front of him, blocking his view of the crowd. Bellatrix held them together, crouched behind them. “Smile, you two,” said the man, holding the camera up to his face.

“Harry, hug Draco back,” Narcissa prodded, tapping her high-heeled shoe against the tiled floor. Harry put his arms around him and looked at the camera.

“Well, there he is,” said a familiar voice to his side as the flashbulb went off. Harry whirled around and saw Sirius and Remus standing over him, monstrous smiles on both of their faces.

“Oi! There’s my little godson, I heard you’d be here tonight,” Sirius told him, tossing the small boy a wink.

“Up!” Harry demanded, clapping his hands and thrusting them out to be picked up.

Narcissa growled in her throat as her cousin bent down and lifted Harry away from her son. “I don’t think our Lord would approve, Sirius. He’s a bit upset with you at the moment. Bella, take the children, please.”

He jerked back when Bellatrix lurched to grab the boy. “Sod off, you filthy cunts,” he replied. He bounced Harry up and down in his arms, ignoring the looks the girls were giving him. Moony examined the robe Harry was wearing and grimaced. He pointed out the crest to Sirius, who in turn frowned in disgust. “Slytherin? Honestly, woman. Only you would think this boy would be a Slytherin. He’s a Gryffindor, pure and simple. His mum and dad were both Gryffindors, what makes you think he’d be anything else?”

“His grandfather was a Slytherin, you bloody tosser, the heir of Slytherin to be exact. He’s a Parselmouth, and he’s already showing magical power. He’ll be a Slytherin, you mark my word,” the blond said with a sneer.

Grabbing Harry out of Sirius’s arms, James made his grand entrance, glaring back at the two women. Harry hummed in his throat and snuggled into his father’s embrace. “Home,” he whispered. “Home, daddy.” His small hands were clasped around his neck to hold on for dear life.

“Hey, sweetheart, I missed you, too.” He ruffled the boy’s wild mane of hair and kissed his cheek. “We’ll go home in a minute. I need to tell these two ugly bitches to get fucked first.”

Narcissa gasped and covered her son’s ears. “You’ll be sorry for that. I’ll tell Lucius what you said. You’ll all be sorry.”

“You aren’t supposed to be here. None of you were invited!” Bellatrix shouted. She nearly retched when Peter walked up, completing the quartet of trouble. She whipped her head around, looking for someone to intervene. “Give me that boy. I’m responsible for him tonight, James. Your father insisted he stay with me!”

Narcissa lifted Draco up and growled. “You’re in so much trouble. You just wait until Lucius returns. He’s been dying for an excuse to hurt you.”

“Shut your maws, the both of you. I haven’t seen my son in a month and I’m not giving him back, especially to you.” He snarled and turned to his companions, gesturing toward the main doors. “Let’s go home.”

Sirius snorted in amusement, Remus’s jaw dropped. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea, mate,” he warned. “Your father-”

“Piss on my father, let’s go.”

Narcissa stomped her foot. “Sirius, I will tell your mother all about this if you don’t stop him!” she screamed. Draco shook under his mother’s grip as the dark haired man turned on her with fire in his eyes.

“Tell her whatever you wish, you fucking tart. I moved back out yesterday. I live with James now.” He wagged his eyebrows at her and turned away, walking out behind the others.

* * *

 

“Not in front of Harry!” James warned him, jerking back against the preparation table. He wiped the saliva from his lips and looked down at his son, who in turn was looking back up at him from the floor.

“He’s not going to tell on us, are you Harry? You don’t care if Paddy and Prongs have a snog, do you?”

Harry stared up at both young men, unsure of what to say. “Snog?”

James pushed off another advance and stepped over by the sink. “If my father asks him if we were hugging and kissing, you better believe he’ll tell him everything he can. He’s his personal spy against me. He can speak loads better in Parseltongue than he can in English. He’ll spill his guts out.”

“I’m sorry that it’s so hard to keep myself off you. You shouldn’t have been born so handsome.” Sirius held up his hands. “But all right, mate. I can hold off till later.”

Harry returned his attention to his toys laid out in front of him.

Sirius plopped down on the floor across from him and picked up Moony. He began growling for it as he walked the plush doll over the other toys, creeping it up Harry’s leg. Harry screamed in fear as he reared back to escape.

“Wonderful, he’s probably wet himself. Stop teasing him all the time,” murmured James, tossing a tea cloth into the sink.

Sirius cackled, ignoring his pleas. He crawled along the floor, following Harry’s faltering steps with the toy werewolf. The toddler stumbled and fell on his bum, but pulled himself together and got back up before it could touch him. “*Grrrr*! I’m gonna get ya and eat your face off!”

“NO!” Harry screamed. He hid behind his father’s leg, clutching it in terror as the werewolf moved closer.

James kicked the doll away as it approached. “There, your father saves the day!” he exclaimed, threatening another kick to Sirius’s brash mug by his feet. “You’ve probably frightened him away from Remy forever. You know that, right?”

Sirius shrugged and propped his head up with his hands. “Why don’t you come down here and teach me a lesson, then? I’ve been very naughty.” He wiggled his arse and winked up at the blushing man who was attempting to cover his son’s ears.

Scooping Harry up into his arms, James kicked Sirius’s thigh as he walked out of the kitchen. He whispered in the little boy’s ear as Sirius rolled onto his side to rub his leg. “Pervet!” Harry shouted back at him while James chuckled.

“Oh, that’s lovely! Teaching your son about me at such an early age!” he cried, and leapt up to follow them to the bedroom. James was dressing Harry in his pyjamas on the bed. Sirius held up Little Moony over his shoulder, taunting Harry with hushed snarls.

Harry gasped and started crying, fighting his father’s hands to get away. Without looking back, James reached out behind him, swatting Sirius on his backside as hard as he could. “Naughty, wicked, Paddy! He’s so awful to my little Harry, isn’t he?” he cooed, holding Harry‘s foot to keep him from falling off the side of the bed. “That’s why he sleeps in the den tonight and Harry sleeps with daddy.”

Sirius whimpered and rubbed his bum. “Paddy’s sorry.”

“Paddy will have to make up for it…” His mind drifted off to his father, who was probably going to make a late night appearance the moment he can slip away from the party. “If we survive the night, that is.”

* * *

 

James stared at the mantle, unable to take his eyes off the old magical clock. The hand with his father’s name on it was still pointing to ‘away on business’. He knew soon enough it would move to ‘coming over’, and there would be trouble then.

Sirius dropped his head on his shoulder and gave his knee a squeeze to ease his worry. “Stop thinking about him, babe. He’s your son.”

He bit his lip. “Maybe you should have gone to Remus’s. I can’t guarantee he’s not going to kill me this time.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Sirius replied. “Stop looking at that clock. He’d have been here already if he was coming.” He put his arm around James’s shoulder and pulled him onto a hug.

“I can’t help it. He’s never cared for me. He hated Harry when he was born, I don’t understand what he’s up to with him. He swore to kill us all when he found out I got Lily pregnant and she wasn’t a pure-blood. It wasn’t until she turned up dead...” He choked on the last words and buried his face in Sirius’s chest. “You know…that’s when he began to socialise with Harry.”

Sirius chewed on his lip, fighting the words trying to leave his mouth. “J-James, I was wondering...” he stammered, finding himself now looking at the clock, “have there been any updates on her murder?”

“No. The case was shelved. I’m leaving it at that,” he said, snuggling in deeper.

“Did you ever...Oh, never mind.”

“What?” James sat up and looked at him. “Did I ever what?”

He sat back to look him in the eye. “Did you ever think that, well...that maybe he had something to do with it? I mean, you‘ve never spoken about it, but he‘s so…”

James shook his head, looking between Sirius and the clock. “I don’t remember a damned thing about it. They say I was there and that I might have...I can’t remember. I can’t remember any of it.”

“I know that! What I meant was, do you think maybe he...maybe wiped your memory of it or something?”

Rubbing his eyes under his glasses, James shook his head again. “I don’t know. I have absolutely no memory of anyone but myself, Lily, and Harry being there at any time that night.”

Sirius sighed. “You’re not listening to me.”

“What are you playing at? If he was there I would have known!”

“Not if he wiped it from- Oh fuck, he’s coming!” he shouted, his eyes fixed on the clock that had suddenly pointed to ‘coming over’.

James slid down to the opposite side of the settee as a glass-shattering knock at the door pounded in their ears. “You should go now,” he warned, giving Sirius one last look before cocking his head to the loud and angry footsteps entering the parlour.

“Nope, not moving.”

“Your funeral, Paddy.”

Lord Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy walked into the sitting room and over to the settee they were cowering on, both looking murderous. James bit his tongue as his father began to speak, knowing if he interrupted he’d be hexed into the back wall.

“How fortunate you are that Lucius held me back until I calmed down,” he said, standing over his son as Lucius stood over Sirius. “Get the child right now and give him back to me.”

“He’s my son,” he replied. “He belongs here with me, not with Narcissa. You promised I could have him tonight.”

Voldemort bared his teeth. “I changed my mind. He needs to be out in society, not in here watching you two benders fucking your little brains out.”

James sighed. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Lucius fingering his wand while glaring down at Sirius. He didn’t have to look over to know Sirius was smirking back at him as he always did when they shared company. He ghosted over his own wand trapped in his pocket, hoping it wouldn’t come to that. “Can I please just keep him tonight? I promise I won’t corrupt him in any way.”

Voldemort glowered over at the opposite end of the settee. “You already have, James. You’ve got your little boyfriend here, now don’t you?”

Sirius lost his smirk and jerked his head over towards the Dark Lord. “I happen to be his godfather.”

“Not in my book you’re not,” he replied. “Filthy fucking ingrates…spoiling all of the work I’ve done to properly rear this child for greatness. Get it through your thick skull: he’s my son now. I’m his daddy, and I’m getting him a new mummy soon. Go get yourself another Mudblood tramp and make yourself a new baby. There’s plenty of them out there.”

Sirius stood up, giving Lucius a brutal shove out of the way. “And since when has Harry’s interests become yours? Certainly a little bastard like-”

“Stop it!” cried James, trembling as he witnessed the whites in Voldemort’s eyes fill up with blood. He stood up by his father and put himself between the two men and their wands. “Tom, please don’t. Sirius, sit down.”

Prodding his wand in the small of Sirius’s back, Lucius grew cold. “You heard your girlfriend, take a seat.”

James glared at him but rested a hand on Sirius’s shoulder, giving it a light shove back toward the settee. With a scowl, Sirius fell back and crossed his arms.

Voldemort gestured to the hallway without taking his eyes off the two young men in front of him. Lucius snorted. He walked out of the parlour and headed directly into James’s bedroom. Both young men boiled with anger as he reappeared. He had Harry in his arms.

Grabbing the sleeping child and clutched him to his chest, Lord Voldemort sneered at both Phoenix Order council members before taking his leave. He said nothing - as there was nothing to say. Why he hadn’t killed them both flitted over in his mind. It would be clean, easy and thoughtless; exactly the way he liked things to be.


	3. The Dark Lord Takes a Wife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Voldemort has chosen his bride, a woman to rival his own desires and raise his son to grow up to become just like them.

In the middle of the afternoon in the parlour of Riddle House, Bellatrix wiped the damp hair away from her face. Caring for one toddler was a difficult task, but having two deemed nearly impossible. “Boys, stop that! The emperor will be so cross if he sees you touching his things.”

Draco pursed his lips and dropped a china plate on the floor. It shattered into a million pieces. “We’re hungwy.” He smirked at her shocked expression. “We’re hungwy now!”

Harry tiptoed past him, kicking broken glass along the wooden floorboards as she scrambled to scoop him up to take him out of harms way. She gave her nephew a hip. “I’ll feed you after tea. Now, get away from that mess before I paddle the skin off of your bottom!”

“A biscuit, just one biscuit!” Draco cried. He stomped his feet up and down over the glass, crushing the larger pieces into tiny shards.

“Biscuit!” Harry chimed, tugging at her dishevelled hair. “Biscuit, Bella!” The boy was so secure. The gigantic snake didn’t even frighten him. She swatted his bum and gave him a thorough shake.

“Don’t you dare start acting like this little spoilt brat who always gets his way and never pays for his actions!” She then untangled his hand from her hair and set him down while she repaired the shattered plate. “Go to your room before I lose control and slaughter you both! I don’t want to see your faces- Go!”

“You heard the woman, both of you scatter before I turn her loose on you.”

All three of them turned to the doorway. Lord Voldemort entered and waved a hand at the children, sending them running off towards the nursery.

“I’m so sorry about the plate.” Bellatrix smoothed her long black hair and straightened her dress. She kept her eyes toward the floor, hoping she wasn’t in too much trouble. “I’m so new at this. I’m doing the best I can, my Lord.”

“Don’t be afraid to be yourself with them, woman. I like what I see.” Tom stepped towards her. “I think you’d make a wonderful caregiver for my boy.” She opened her mouth to speak but the handsome man lifted her chin to look at him, closing it for her. “He needs a mother; someone who will always be there for him. Someone who is pure-blood and cultured and not afraid to distribute the corporal punishment he desperately needs.”

Harry and Draco watched their exchange from a crack of the nursery door. “She’s going to be your mum, I bet.” whispered Draco.

Harry pulled his doll away from Draco’s hands. “My Moony.”

Draco made a face. “You awe such a baby, Hawwy.” He grabbed the boy’s hair, yanking at the thick black mass until he had him on the floor crying.

“The Minister has his hands full with these Phoenix people. They’re forcing mine to act. That boy of mine, he’s pushing for allowing the Muggle-born children to have the right to learn defences and potions in school. I’m going to be very busy and called away without notice.”

Bellatrix watched him take a step closer to her. He was so close she should feel his warm breath on her forehead. “Oh, umm-”

He silenced her again, placing a finger on her lips. He threw up a charming smile on his beautiful face and took her hand in his own. “I don’t want Harry to act like that little white-haired terror in there. I want him groomed for perfection. He must know how to hide his emotions and grow strong, learn dark magics and rule over others with such power they fear to speak his name.” He flicked his eyes to the nursery door for a moment as he cleared his throat.

She held her breath. He was going to ask her, she just knew it.

He got down on one knee. “I’ve spoken to your aunt and she’s given me her blessing. I want you to marry me. Be my wife and his mother.” He pulled a ring from the breast pocket of his dinner jacket. The diamond set in the centre was enormous and sparkled like nothing she’d ever seen before. “We will be the most powerful and beautiful family in Britain.” He placed it on her finger. “What do you say?”

“Yes,” she said through a swooning breath, finding no other words in her head. She was shaking so badly she feared she might faint. “It would be my great honour to be your wife and Harry’s mother, my Lord. A great, great honour.”

He stood up and patted her cheek. “Wonderful. I’ll have the arrangements made, papers drawn up for Harry’s adoption. You won’t be sorry, Bella.”

She watched him enter the nursery, picking Harry up into his arms. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She was going to marry the most powerful wizard in the world. She would be his. She would be a mother. “I hope I’m not,” she said to herself as they passed her by and left the room. “I really hope I’m not.”

* * *

 

Narcissa pulled her lengthy blond hair over her cheeks to hide the flush, it was something she was very adept at doing. She had suspected something earlier when her aunt nearly leapt from the top step of her staircase to tell her a surprise was coming. “So it’s true? When is the ceremony? What are you going to wear? Will you go on holiday, take a honeymoon? I’ll keep Harry for you!”

“Cissy, I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to say no but he’s so beautiful and he smiled at me and got down on his knee. I think I died and went to heaven.” Bellatrix pulled Draco’s jacket over his shoulders as her sister buttoned it up. “What am I going to do?”

“You should be honoured,” she said. “He’s so powerful. He’s going to rule the world with you at his side.”

The older sister snorted and propped her fists on her hips. “Oh yeah? Little Harry sleeps in his bed with him. Where shall I sleep, here in the nursery?”

“That’s not true.” Narcissa clapped a hand over her mouth to hide her laughter. “Oh, you’re joking!” She lifted Draco into her arms and kissed her sister’s cheek. “It’s for the best. Rodolphus Lestrange is a disgusting sadist and I’d hate to see that man rub off on you.”

“I don’t know,” she said, looking down as a wicked grin curled the corners of her mouth. “We have fantastic rough violent sex and I just so happen to love that. I bet he won’t even sleep with me, or if he did it’d be as cold and boring as he is. I could never picture having great sex with Tom.”

“You mustn’t call him that!” Narcissa turned to the door as her sister watched. “The Dark Lord is wealthy and cultured and so bloody handsome. He will make you’re life a very pleasant one, I’m sure. Learn to adjust to the sex, I know I did. Anyway, thanks for watching Draco for us. I have to get back in time for dinner. Good bye, darling.”

Bellatrix sighed as Narcissa walked away, holding her little boy. Draco growled at her. She growled back.

* * *

 

It was a rushed, unceremonious ceremony. All who attended watched on as their emperor stood in front of the Minister, holding his new wife’s hand. They applauded and threw rice as the two passed, giving their best wishes and cooing at their fortunes and great beauty. Voldemort scooped his grandson up out of Molly’s arms and headed out of the chapel doors, dragging his bride along behind them.

There was no time for a honeymoon. The Riddle House was a large manor set into the top of a hill, overlooking a Muggle village in Little Hangelton. This is where they would reside as man and wife, caring for their little newly-adopted toddler.

“Put him in the nursery,” Voldemort instructed as they walked up the main stairs. His dark eyes glimmered with red flecks, there was no hint of emotion on his face. “Meet me in the bedroom.” He walked into the master bedroom and closed the door.

Harry wailed as he was placed into his crib. “Hush, baby,” she whispered. She gave him Moony and a cup of milk. “No, don’t you try and climb out or I’ll stun you…Good boy. I’ll be back shortly.”

As she walked into the master bedroom, her eyes fell upon the beautiful man stretched out across his bed. He was clad only in a sheet draped in haphazard fashion across his groin. “Come here, Bella,” he said, curling a finger inward. “Take your dress off, I want to see you.”

She reached behind her back to unzip her wedding gown. It slipped from her shoulders and pooled on the floor around her. Her fingers released the silver clip holding her hair up in a bun. She stood before him at the edge of the bed, unsure of what to say or do.

“Very nice. You’re really beautiful. I’ve imagined how you might like to fuck. It’s one of the reasons I chose you. I dearly hope it’s how I like fucking or you're in for one helluva night,” he said, looking her up and down. His tone was cool, he showed no hint of malice or excitement. He sat up letting the sheet slip from his body. Bellatrix glanced down at him, taking in his sumptuous physique. He reached up, smirking. His eyebrow arched in wicked fashion giving the woman a thrill, causing her to gasp. “You’d better not disappoint me.” He took her hand and pulled her down, throwing himself over top of her before she could resist. With eyes as cold and dead as a shark, he tore her undergarments away from her body. Grabbing her face, he smashed their lips together.

Bellatrix melted as his tongue invaded her mouth. He was voracious and uncaring, their teeth clanked together, his stubble burned her lips. She pulled him in closer against her, wrapping her legs around his middle. Taking his lower lip between her teeth, she bit down as hard as she could, feeling the skin break under the pressure.

His once dead eyes sprang to life to look at her while he wiped the blood from his chin. He was in awe. It was as if he really saw her for the first time. “Yes,” he whispered, his voice wavering as he stared into her eyes, “that’s the way I like it.” He kissed her harder, pressing his body on top of her to be as close to her as possible.

“Yes, so good, my Lord.” Bellatrix dragged her long fingernails down the length of his back, tearing the flesh in trails of red. She grabbed his face, heaving and trembling to look him in the eye. She threw her head back and shoved him into the crook of it. “On my neck. Bite my neck.”

He took the delicate skin of her throat, sucking it into his mouth. He snapped his teeth on it and shoved her prone to the mattress. Finding he could not wait any longer, he drew his fingers up along the damp swell of her sex, sending shivers crawling over her flesh. “Scratch harder,” he order her, gritting his teeth. She grinned up at him. He positioned himself, holding his stiff cock against the juncture of her thighs. With a lopsided smirk, he thrust inside.

“Oh, gods, fuck me really hard,” she replied, growling and snapping her teeth at him. Her hands raked his back to shreds, unable to deny how amazing this experience was. She thought Rodolphus was the best lay she had ever had until that very moment. Perhaps she could tolerate being his miserable wife if only for this. “Fucking make me scream, you sonuvabitch!”

The more she taunted and injured him, the more it fuelled him on. Lifting her legs up, hitching them into the crooks of his arms, he bent her into the mattress, forcing a scream to tear from her throat.

In the room across the hall, Harry cried himself hoarse. The voices and the loud banging echoed through his room.

Tom crushed his body into hers, gyrating his hips against her inner thighs. With fire in her eyes, Bellatrix clenched up and came from the dynamite force. She gripped his neck with her nails, demanding he finish what he had started, arching and ripping flesh as she thrust back against him.

With a harsh rush of blood, the Dark Lord buried himself to the hilt inside of her, impelling her flesh one last time as his release burst forth. He fell on top of her and nuzzled his face between her breasts, biting down on the heaving swell to hear her screams fill his ears one more time. “That was fucking amazing,” he mumbled, quite out of breath. “I think I’m dying. I’m completely spent.”

“Yeah, what the fuck was that?” And as soon as the lingering hum of her glorious climax faded away she shoved him off of her. She was covered in his sticky blood. “I should get cleaned up.”

Harry was inconsolable. His hiccoughing shrieks pounded against the closed door. Lord Voldemort rolled over to look at her. “Get my boy for me,” he told her. “I need to comfort him.” He leaned back into his pillow and lit a cigarette as he watched her climb off of the bed.

She looked at him and herself. “We’re caked with each other’s blood, my Lord. It’ll terrify him.”

“You’re my wife now, call me Tom.” He stood up and took her by the arm. “But, yes, you’re right about that. It will terrify him.” He steered her to the adjoining bathroom and pushed her inside. He turned the shower on dragging her into it with him. Both tensed up as the icy cold water rained over them, washing away the remnants of their lovemaking.

She chewed on a fingernail watching him throw his head back into the stream. He was so statuesque, and he fucked better than anyone she’d ever let fuck her before. They locked eyes and she looked away in fear of offending him but he took her around the waist and pulled her in close. “You crazy fucking bitch. I had no idea. And you’re so beautiful, I can’t stop looking at you.”

She blushed, dropping her head on his chest to hide it from him. “Oh, my Lord, you flatter me.”

“Tom,” he said, giving her a little shake. “I want him to hear you call me that from now on, as much as I detest the name.”

“It’s a beautiful name, my Lord…Tom, sorry.” She cringed, hoping he wasn’t cross. “I’ll really work on that, Tom.”

“Goddamn right you will.” He looked her over for any marks needing to be healed up. He dotted his wand over them and handed it to her. “Fix my back so we can get our son and go to bed.”

She turned him around and healed him up. “Where will I be sleeping?”

“What do you mean?” He looked over his shoulder at her. “With us. We’re a family now.”

* * *

 

June, 1986

“Three days now…” Bellatrix stood over the sink pouring a glass of sherry. “Not even an owl. Why do you think that is, Harry? I suppose I’m not enough for him…Not enough. I give him everything I have.”

Harry sat at the dinner table looking down at the plate of wilted greens sitting in front of him. He was awestruck, his mouth hung open, unable to take his eyes away from the monstrosity.

“Eat the goddamn spinach or I’ll starve you all week,” she ordered, standing behind him now sipping her wineglass. She pressed his head down towards the plate. Harry nearly giggled, but knew he would probably get a terrible beating if he did. “I’m not joking, it’s good for you. Eat the fucking spinach before I shove it down your throat.”

He looked over to the side of the room, hearing the front door open and close. A triumphant smile grew on his lips. “Oh, you’re home!” he cried, seeing the Dark Lord walk into the dining room. “You won’t make me eat this slop, will you, Tom?”

“He’s not getting up until he eats it. It’s already been discussed,” announced Bellatrix, shoving his head into the plate.

Lord Voldemort threw his heavy overcoat onto a dining chair. He looked down at the china and cringed. “Eat it, Harry.”

Harry gaped at him with his spinach stained face. “What—why?”

“Because Bella told you to, that’s why. You always do as she says, that's the rules. Do I make myself clear?”

Harry could feel his stomach do several flip-flops. He was looking between his father, his mother and the plate. His breath rushed out in gasps, his faltering courage crumbled under the darkened stares they bore him, waiting for him to pick up his fork.

Bellatrix looked at her husband. “Where have you been? Three days you’ve been gone…where the hell have you been?”

“Ooh, aren’t we a fucking nag.” Voldemort looked up from the child to his wife and smirked. “Taking care of business, that’s all you need to know. ~ _That doesn’t mean you don’t follow direct orders, Harry- pick up your fucking fork and eat it!_ ~”

Harry jumped in his seat and shovelled a large amount of spinach into his mouth. It was cold and wet, sticking to his tongue like pasty mush. Holding it there until he felt like he might retch, he forced himself to swallow it. “Guh…Okay, I ate it.”

Bellatrix patted his shoulder. “Two more bites and you can go to bed.” Her eyes travelled over the Dark Lord’s face and neck, noting a fresh mark poking out from his collar. The scent of liquor and cigars wafted past her nostrils. Her heavily-lidded eyes narrowed. “Oh, no. Oh, hell no.” She lifted the plate from in front of her son and gave him a tap. “Changed my mind, go to bed straight away.”

He knew that look she was giving his father all too well. Harry stood up and ran to the rounded staircase without looking back. The sound of the plate crashing to the floor hurried his movements. He ran to the nursery, the place he always ran to when they were fighting, and slammed the door. Sitting on the floor less than a minute, he remembered his stuffed werewolf was back in the master bedroom. He reopened the door and froze.

Lord Voldemort stood over Bellatrix at the top of the stairs, holding his wand out at her as she crawled to the landing on her hands and knees. The cruel, uncaring look on his face shot terror through his veins. His father was covered in spinach and his neck was bleeding. “Mummy?” he whispered. Taking a step forward, he held his hand out to her.

“Go inside!” she bellowed, shaking her head, pointing her wand at him. She bore an evil grin with loads of bloody teeth. Without looking at him, she kicked out at her husband, causing him to lose his balance and topple down the stairs. She got to her feet, holding the banister, pointing her wand at the man as he trudged back up. She looked over her shoulder as he reached the landing. “Do as you’re told, Harry. Close the door!”

Voldemort flicked his wand at him. “Do as she says, boy. I’m fit to teach this fucking bitch a lesson she won’t soon forget.”

Slamming it shut, Harry removed his glasses and covered his ears, trying his best to block out all of his senses. His mother screamed, his father shouted, the dull thuds and breaking glass tore at his every nerve. He squeezed his eyes shut and laid down on the floor, hearing his mother’s strangled voice shouting Unforgivable curses throughout the hallway.

* * *

 

Feeling someone touch him and hearing a rustling sound beside him, Harry looked up from the spot on the floor he had fallen asleep. Lord Voldemort was bent over him, smiling, holding out his hand. “Come on, baby, its bedtime.”

Harry took his hand, seeing the cuts and bruises littering his arm in the moonlight. He then remembered and pulled his hand back. He looked around for Bellatrix, resisting Voldemort’s prodding orders to move. “Where’s mummy?” he whispered, the fear inside of him growing. He backed away from the man, so frightened and confused. “Did you hurt her?”

“I said it was bedtime…Get moving.” Voldemort lunged forward, lifting Harry up around the waist. He carried him, kicking and screaming, into the bedroom. He tossed him onto the bed, catching his ankle as he scrambled to get away. “Get back here, boy!” He yanked him into the middle of the bed and held him down, pinning his wrists together and thrusting them over his head. He was wild-eyed, snarling, gagging the boy with the ball of his hand. “You think you can get away from me? Run and hide like you always do? Your mother is cooling off in the cellar at the moment.” He grabbed his wand off the bedside table and cast the familiar spell he always cast when the boy got too upset during any act of violence with Bellatrix.

“ _Obliviate!_ ”

The Dark Lord sat back, catching his breath. He got up and left the room as Harry fell still with his arm dangling over the side of the bed.

When he returned he had his wife in his arms and dropped her onto the mattress. He straightened Harry out and removed his clothes. He tucked him under the covers and slipped in beside him. “So,” he murmured, feeling the child stir and rub his eyes. “You don’t care much for spinach?”

“It’s awful,” Harry said, snuggling into his side. He nudged his mother’s arm to be sure she was asleep. “Thanks for not making me eat it. She’s always trying to pull that garbage on me.” He kissed the man on his lips. “You’re the best, you really are.”

“Course. Anything for you.” Voldemort wrapped an arm around him and kissed the crown of his head. “Good night, baby.”


	4. Paddy and Prongs' Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Voldemort grants his son a full week with Harry, but things don't go as planned.

Narcissa bustled around the manor. The guests would be arriving at any moment and nothing seemed to be quite in place. “Dobby!” she screeched, stomping her foot on the floor. “Why aren’t the decorations up in the halls yet?”

“Dobby is putting them up right now, madam!” The small elf ran through the corridors snapping his fingers. Behind him, warm birthday greetings and brilliant coloured streamers bloomed like flowers along the walls.

Six-year-old Draco crossed his arms as he looked them over. “I hate those colours. Those are girl colours.”

“They match the décor, darling,” his mother said. She gasped as a rap on the front door sounded. “They’re here!”

Several children entered the home the moment the door flew open. Narcissa greeted them, counting their heads as she ushered them into the sitting room. Draco gaped at the door as the last of the children passed by. “Ugh, what the hell, mum? Where’s Harry?”

She cringed, hearing the tone in her son’s voice darken. “Bella said they might be late.”

He stamped his feet on the floor and kicked his mother’s dog, making it yelp. “But it’s my birthday! Why isn’t he here right now? How rude and mean, they should be here on time!”

“I’m sorry, but I cannot force them to arrive on time,” she said, steering him towards the party while reminding herself that bratty children made more money then disciplined ones. “Not like I can with the rest of these people.”

Thirty-two children sat on separate sides of the room. Seventeen were pure and half-bloods, the others were Muggle-born and children of blood-traitor families. If ones name had appeared in the Book of Hogwarts to begin schooling with Draco in five years time, and if the parents agreed and were not hated by the Malfoys, one was invited to attend. Two members of the the Order of the Phoenix stood behind their own for security. Lucius and Bartemius Crouch Jr sat behind the others.

Narcissa clapped her hands together and tipped her head to them. “Isn’t this lovely? So many cultures here getting on with my son.” Her hospitable smile warmed the room. She sat down next to her husband as the children began to mingle, snuggling his arm and whispering into his ear. “They’d better bring that child quickly or Draco will tear the house apart.”

Lucius snorted. “He’s coming.” He looked down at the risen tattoo on his forearm and ran his fingers on it over the shirt to dull the pain.

“…and then I took the frog and turned it into an ice pop!”

“Liar!”

“It’s true!”

“You really ate a frog ice pop? That’s disgusting!”

Draco slicked his hair back and threw the ginger-headed boy taunting him a dirty look. “I didn’t eat it, you git. I just turned it into one and put it in Mrs Umbridge’s tea.”

Ronald Weasley rolled his eyes. “I don’t believe you. You can’t do magic yet.”

Lucius stood up and walked to the hallway. “They’re here, darling.”

Lord Voldemort entered the house first, dressed in a tuxedo, looking dashing. Narcissa and Molly swooned and covered their gasping with the tips of their fingers. Bellatrix stepped inside, wearing a strapless floor-length fishtail dress made of spider silk, so tall and beautiful as she dragged her son inside. She was dripping with diamonds, her black hair coiled up in a shiny bun. Both of them were clearly over-dressed to show off their wealth but no one seemed to mind. Harry ran into the sitting room as fast as he could. He stopped dead, looking around at all the new faces. “What’s this?” He clamped around his father’s thigh, shocked and confused by all of the children staring back at him. “What’s going on here?” he said, giving him a squeeze.

Molly Weasley placed her hand over her heart at the sight of him. Harry was more beautiful than any creature she could imagine. “Oh, little Harry,” she gushed, “I used to hold you at all the council meetings. You were only this big!”

“Say hullo to the Weasleys, Harry,” Voldemort said.

Harry gave her a slight wave. “Hullo, Weasleys.”

“Come on,” Draco said, grabbing his hand to rip him away from his father.

Lord Voldemort greeted the Order with a nod. “Molly dear, would you mind terribly if I stole the Malfoys and Barty away for some tea? We haven’t spoken as of yet about our upcoming holiday. We aren’t staying long, we have an engagement we need to attend.” He gave Bellatrix a healthy shove towards the pure-blood side of the room. “My wife will happily sit in for them.”

“Not at all, my Lord,” she replied, blushing.

Bellatrix ignored Molly and her husband and took a seat behind the children. She crossed the room, heading straight for the liquor bar and poured herself a glass of bourbon. “Now, Harry, play nice. Don’t make me come over there and hurt you,” she warned, seeing her son swat the nose of a fellow Death Eater’s child.

“But Vincent’s touched my Moony,” he said, clutching his plushy.

“Don’t ever touch his Moony,” she advised all of them before giving the large boy a threatening look.

Molly glanced up at Arthur and shrugged.

“He’s not even six yet,” said a small girl with frizzy hair in the back of the room. She looked up from her book toward the woman. “He shouldn’t be allowed to boss around older children, it’s not proper.”

“What did you say, little girl?” Bellatrix raised an eyebrow as she sparked a cigarette.

“I’m stating a fact. It says here that the newest heir of Slytherin, Harry James Riddle, was born in July. It’s only June,” she said, holding up a copy of ‘Modern Magical History’. “You shouldn’t let him talk down to other children when he isn’t old enough to.”

The smirk on the woman’s face faded into a scowl. She glared at the child for nearly thirty seconds before Molly threw her arms up and hurried to the middle of the room. “Let’s play a game!” she shouted, and all the children looked up with wide eyes and cheers.

“What game?”

“What do we do?”

“You’ll need a partner for this. So everyone choose a partner before we begin.”

Ron looked around the room. He zeroed in on the pretty black-haired boy with little round glasses. He ran up and grabbed Harry’s hand. “I’ve got mine! I want this one, mum!”

Draco looked up from his pile of presents in shock. He felt the breath being knocked from his lungs and lunged forward before it was too late. “No, no, no!” he shouted, throwing his arms around Harry. “He’s mine!”

“I saw him first!” Ron argued, tugging him back.

The birthday boy swelled with anger. “Harry is always mine!”

“Draco, stop it. You’re hurting my arms,” Harry whined. He slithered out of his grasp and stepped back in line with Ron. “I can play with him if I want to.”

“Perhaps we should play a game that doesn’t call for partners,” Arthur suggested, watching the little white-haired boy turn a bright shade of pink.

Draco shot Bellatrix a heated look. “You do something about this right now, woman!”

“Let him play with the Weasley boy,” she shot back, snapping her teeth at him. “Learn to share, you ungrateful little louse.”

Aghast, he threw himself on the floor in a terrible fit of cries. “You never take my side! I hate you!”

All of the children laughed and pointed at the birthday boy throwing the temper tantrum on the ground. Harry’s chin began to quiver. He bent down, lifting his friend up and grimaced as he looked up at all of their peers surrounding them. “Shut up, you stupid cows! Don’t laugh at him!”

“Calm down everyone. It’s not polite to laugh at anyone. You should all be ashamed of yourselves,” Molly scolded them.

“I’ll be your partner, Draco. I’m sorry,” Harry whispered into his ear. He petted his hair, feeling just terrible about upsetting him. “I’m so sorry. Please stop crying.”

Draco hugged him, wiping his tears on Harry’s shoulder. “Don’t ever let anyone else touch you again.”

“Never again, I promise.” Harry kissed his cheek. “Happy birthday.”

* * *

 

“We should just off the both of them and be done with it,” Lucius remarked. “Honestly, fucking Weasleys running around on my rugs, touching my things. Everyone’s got too many rights now, they’re all very comfortable. This shite’s got to stop.”

Lord Voldemort emptied his glass of amaretto through a chuckle. “I happen to enjoy Molly Weasley’s company. She’s always remained kind when the others lose control.”

“That’s because she fancies you,” Narcissa informed him, turning her nose in the air.

Shrugging, he leaned back in his chair, looking quite smug. “The Order is all but dissolved. With the Longbottoms and Dumbledore permanently out of the way, they merely hang on to a tiny thread that I happen to call ‘son’.”

Barty filled his glass with whiskey and took a large swig. “He is a problem anymore, isn’t he? Who’d have thought James would become such a powerful pain in the arse?”

The Dark Lord grinned. “Oddly enough, I’m taking Harry to his home tomorrow. I’ve guaranteed him a full week with the boy without any interference from our side.” Only Lucius noted the mark of sarcasm in his voice.

Narcissa sighed. She wrung her hands together. “I promised Draco he could spend the weekend here. He’ll be crushed.”

“I’m sorry. I gave him my word.” Voldemort stood up and grabbed his coat. “Harry can stay here tonight. I’ll return in the morning to collect him.”

“Thank you, my Lord.” Narcissa beamed at him.

The emperor walked into the foyer. Harry leapt into his arms and peppered him with kisses. “~ _Good bye, father! I love, love, love you!_ ~”

Tom shivered. He masked his emotion, looking into the child’s eyes. “You be a very good boy tonight. One bad report from Mrs Malfoy and your mother will skin you alive.”

“I’ll be good,” he said, hugging his neck.

The Dark Lord set the boy on his feet and beckoned his wife along. “Come on, Bella. We’re going to be late for the the awards ceremony.” He gave the Weasleys a charming smile. “Good afternoon, Molly, Arthur.”

Bellatrix tossed the couple a rude gesture as they stepped out, closing the door behind them.

* * *

 

“Oi!” James ran down the path towards the uncomfortable looking boy standing by the gate. He dropped to his knees when he reached him. “Look at you!” he bellowed, pulling his son into a great big hug. “You’ve gotten so big!”

Harry stood stiff and glanced up towards Tom. The lord gave him a quick nod, letting the boy know it was all right to reciprocate the gesture. Gradually, he warmed into the hug. He draped his arms around his father’s neck and let him carry him off.

“~ _Goodbye, father. I love you,_ ~” he shouted as he watched the distance between him and the lord grow wider.

Voldemort gave him an sad smile as he disapparated away.

“Hey, Peter!” James shouted to his secret keeper as he and Harry entered the house. “Be a doll and get the boy’s bags? I left them by the stoop.”

Three men entered the foyer, all towering over the boy.

“My god, he looks just like you!”

“He’s got Lily’s lips!”

“Look at that hair, what a little angel!”

“You remember you’re uncle Paddy?” Sirius bent to look at the boy.

Harry nodded. “Yeah,” He hugged his Moony, feeling the trepidation of standing in a room with three virtual strangers and a father he only saw during supervised visitation.

“Come on, give him some space,” James said. “Peter, the bags?”

“Right,” the sandy-haired man said.

“You’ve still got Moony,” the tallest of the men commented. He smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair. “I gave that to you when you were a baby.”

“Harry, you probably don’t remember Remus or Peter very well, but they’re very good friends of mine.”

“Hi,” he replied, looking awkward and shy.

Peter returned carrying the luggage. He was the smallest of the four and Harry frowned as he watched him. He had seen him someplace recently, but couldn’t remember where. In turn, Peter surveyed the boy’s reaction to him as he passed, hoping he hadn’t recognised him.

* * *

 

As the evening rushed forth, Remus and Peter said their goodbyes. They had had a wonderful time; loads of jokes were told and games were played. They told the boy stories of the past during their time at Hogwarts, and what to say to the new Headmaster when it was his turn to attend to get under his skin. Both promised to return before the week was up and have another go. James and Sirius stayed up late, entertaining the small boy with whatever they could dream up.

“He looks tired,” Sirius commented, watching Harry begin to nod off during his turn at their game of Exploding Snap.

James walked over and lifted the boy up. “Come on, Harry, it’s bedtime. I’ve made your room up.”

“No,” Harry said. “I never sleep alone. Tom said I could sleep with you.”

Sirius and James exchanged a look. “Now no arguing, this bed is perfectly fine.”

Harry began to panic as his father rested him on the mattress. “I don’t…I can’t…I want to sleep with you!” He kicked off his sheets and sprang up. “If I can’t sleep by you then I want to go home.”

“Who does he sleep with at home, the house elves?” Sirius leaned up against the frame of the door watching James wrestle the boy back into his bed.

Harry made a face at him. “I sleep with Tom, stupid.”

He and James exchanged another fleeting look.

“And where in Merlin’s name does Bellatrix sleep?”

“Paddy, shut up,” warned James.

“She sleeps with us, too. But only when she’s good.” Harry tossed Moony across the room, making his father fetch it for him.

“Go on.” Sirius entered the room and put his back against the door frame. His eyebrows got lost under his wavy fringe. “Where does she sleep when she’s not good?”

Harry shrugged. “In the cellar until Tom lets her out. And then theres the times they sleep together so they can fight, but I have to stay in the nursery with Nagini or Wiggy until they’re done.”

“When they…fight? Sounds like a lovely union. Oh, James, this is going to be a very interesting week.” Sirius crossed the room. He sat down next to the boy and bit his tongue to keep himself from laughing. “Tell me more about your mummy and grandfather’s bedtime habits, kiddo. Does she fight with your grandfather often? When they fight, exactly how long does it take the old man to kick her ugly face out of bed?”

“She’s not ugly!” Harry crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the man. “She’s the most beautiful woman in the world! Shut up, you dumb bastard.”

James growled and placed Moony under the sheet. “You’re going to get me in big trouble if you keep this up. And that dried up old maid is not his mum.”

“She is my mum!” Harry gasped. “And she’s not an old maid! She can’t help it if she can’t make babies, he’s ruined her insides!”

The statement was met with shocked silence, giving Harry the realisation that he’d said something he wasn’t supposed to. “What? What’s wrong? What did I say?”

Breaking the uneasy tension, James began to undress his son. He held up a velvet slipper, waving it at Sirius. “These are utterly repulsive! They dress you like a doll.”

“Your grandfather actually allows you to wear those things outdoors?” The whole outfit matched the shoes. Royal blue knee pants were thrown across the room and incinerated. Sirius held his wand up by his face. “Throw that way.”

James tossed the top of the bobby suit into the air. To Harry’s horror, it exploded into a million bits of ash that cascaded down over the room. Waving his wand once more, the ashes dissipated. “There, all gone.”

“I need that. I have another sitting for a portrait when I return!” Harry was devastated. “Mrs Malfoy’s going to murder me.” He pulled the sheet up to his chin and fell back against his pillow.

“Oh, she’ll get you a new one. She’s got more money than she can spend.” James leaned down and kissed Harry’s cheek. “You get some rest. Good night.”

* * *

 

James found himself yawning again. He’d put Harry back to bed the night before nearly ten times before the child finally fell asleep. His own rest was cut short and he felt if he closed his eyes for more than a second, he could sleep all day. “Harry, your breakfast is ready.”

Harry padded into the room rubbing his face. A small red scab on his forehead caught his father’s attention. “What happened there?” he said, pointing to the spot on his own face.

Running his fingertips over it, Harry winced. “Started hurting again.”

James brushed the thick fringe out of his eyes to get a closer look. The mark was in the shape of a tiny lightning bolt. “How did you get it?”

“He did it the other day,” he said and climbed up in his chair to eat his bowl of cereal.

“He? You mean Tom? _Paddy!_ ” James stood by the stove, watching Harry out of the corner of his eye. “Why would he mark you? Is that something like those awful tattoos his thugs are sporting now?”

Harry shrugged. “He doesn’t want to mar my skin with the tattoo. It’s sort of like that, I guess.”

“You said I could sleep in,” Sirius groaned as he dragged himself into the kitchen.

“He’s bloody marked him, just like the others. Look!” James pulled back Harry’s fringe once more and pointed to the scar. “He’s not even six-years-old!”

“Calm down, mate,” Sirius looked over the mark and shrugged. “It’s probably for protection. Just ask him about it next week.”

“Yeah, he’ll be totally upfront about it, I’m sure.”

“You’re both so stupid,” Harry murmured into his bowl. “It’s so he can check on me when we’re apart, that’s all.”

Sirius pursed his lips and looked at James. “It’s not polite to call someone stupid, you little brat.”

Harry dropped his spoon and looked up at him. “You’re both bloody stupid as hell.”

“Go to your room,” James said, pointing to the hallway.

Harry’s nose crinkled up. “I want to go home.”

“Now!”

“Take me home, James!” Harry stood up and pushed his bowl onto the floor. Glass shattered and milk splattered everywhere. “I want to go home! I didn’t want to come in the first place because I don’t even like you!”

“What an awful thing to say to your father!” Sirius grabbed his arm before he could run off and threw him over his shoulder. “You’re going to your room and you’ll stay there until you apologise.” Harry fought hard to get away but Sirius was a large, strapping young man. He clutched onto him, preventing any escape. “You’re not coming out all day. I’ll sit on you if I must until you do it. And you bloody well better mean it.”

James cringed. “Paddy, not so rough on him.”

“He’s not my father, either! Tom is!” Harry looked up at his father as he was carried away with a look of pure hatred. “Get knotted, you blood-traitor!”

He blanched.

Sirius tossed the boy on his bed and held him down as he kicked him and scratched at his arms. “I see your grandfather has educated you w—Ouch! Stop that right now! James, I’m going to choke him out, I swear to Merlin!”

“No, no,” James ran in behind them and sat down next to his friend. “Stop this, Harry, you’re just upset. There’s no need to get this angry over nothing.”

“It’s not nothing!” he cried. Tears welled up in his eyes. Sirius had him pinned, piquing his frustration and desire to return home. Why Tom had allowed this visit after so many years had come as a great shock to all involved. Faction relations he had called it. Harry cared nothing about any of that; he just wanted to spend the weekend at the Malfoys.

“Okay, he’s had enough. Let him up now.”

“No way, not until he takes that back,” he said, ignoring the trail of tears and mucus sliding off the sides of the boy’s face.

“I’ll never say it!” Harry was inconsolable. “I won’t!”

James sighed. He had hoped the week would go smoothly, but deep down he knew Harry had lost the affection he once held for him. Each of their past visits grew cold and distant. The boy barely knew him anymore.

With Alice and Frank Longbottom becoming permanent residents at St. Mungo’s, and Albus Dumbledore finally succumbing to the suspicious infection of dragon pox, the Order had needed his help more than ever. He threw himself into his work to slow his father’s growing power. They could not allow him to reign without resistance, lest the entire wizarding world be damned to hell. He’d missed appointments with Harry several times when unexpected events turned up, and they always turned up just before visits. He wasn’t brainless; he knew it was his father’s doing.

“Just let him up,” he said. “He’s all flushed and upset. We’ll let him have some time alone.”

Sirius bared his teeth at the boy. “You’re not coming out of this room until I hear that apology.” He pulled his hands back and stood up before Harry could make contact with his groin. And try as he might, the boy kicked his long legs out at him as he evaded.

“I’d rather die,” he hissed, wiping his face on the back of his sleeve.

“Oh, yeah?” Sirius leaned back in, deciding he did not like this boy any more. “You should watch what you say, and be careful what you wish for.”

* * *

 

The remainder of the week went a bit more smoothly, although a chill remained thick and heavy in the air. Harry kept mostly to himself and managed to fall asleep in his own bed each night. It was gruelling, but a much better choice than having to confront his father’s friend and his relentless taunting.

Eager to get to bed on his last night, he asked to retire early as the scar on his forehead was causing him a small amount of pain. He rubbed it all day and nothing his father had given him seemed to help.

James tucked him in, kissed his cheek and felt a swell in his heart as Harry kissed him back. “I hope we can do this again soon. I’d really like for us to become something other than acquaintances. You’re my son, Harry. I love you.”

“It’d be nice if he wasn’t here,” the boy said. “He’s a total prick.”

James blinked. “Don’t start up with that nasty talk again. He lives here. I can’t very well throw him out.”

Harry rolled over and pulled the sheet over his head. “This was a nightmare. I doubt I’ll be back. Night, James.”

“Yeah,” he said, looking down at his lap. “good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sad no one has commented on this except to tell me I confused them. I got a few kudos on it so I guess a few people like it. Anyway, thanks for whoever left me kudos, I appreciate it.


	5. A New Prince Rises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After witnessing terrible tragedy, Harry begins his tenure at Hogwarts.

Lord Voldemort stood at the white picket gate. His heavy cloak flowed in waves behind him. His dark eyes narrowed. Bellatrix and Lucius walked up the street and took their places at each of his sides. His voice was calm and low. “Where is that blasted Secret Keeper?”

“He’s coming,” Lucius informed him. He pulled his wand from his scabbard and opened the gate. Bellatrix followed, brandishing her own weapon.

Peter Pettigrew apparated in the street and ran up to the Dark Lord, huffing and puffing for breath. “I’m so sorry, my Lord. I couldn’t get my mum to-”

Voldemort grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up onto his toes. “Get the door open and leave. I don’t need your excuses.”

“Yes, sir,” he whispered, and scurried up the path.

Inside, Harry cupped his forehead. The increasing pain he’d been experiencing all evening had become unbearable. Uncontrolled whimpers purled through his lips as he rolled out of bed and onto the floor in a half-sleep. “James, help me. I’m really sick. Daddy…”

James stirred in his bed.

The little lightening-bolt scar ruptured under the boy’s hand. Warm blood coated his fingers as he touched it, driving him into terror. He stumbled out of his room and into the hallway, holding the wall for support. His head lolled back as he wobbled along. And as he reached the door to his father’s room, before he could get his hand around the knob, words in Parseltongue filled his head and he fell to the floor unconscious.

The front door flew open and Lord Voldemort entered the house. His tall dark silhouette cast heavy shadow into the foyer.

James groped around on his bedside table for his glasses. “Did you hear something, Paddy?”

Sirius grunted and rolled onto his side.

The Dark Lord entered the hallway and stopped. His eyes moved down on the floor to the child he so dearly loved. He held his hand up to prevent Bellatrix from running to the boy lying in a pool of his own blood. He looked back at her, holding a finger over his lips.

“Do something!” she whispered, clawing at her hip to keep herself from screaming.

James slid his glasses on and climbed out of bed. “I’m going to check on Harry. He was having a lot of pain earlier.”

“Fuck that little twat, he deserves it. Go back to sleep,” Sirius groaned.

Lifting the child up into his arms, Lord Voldemort carried him back to his bedroom and closed the door. Lucius and Bellatrix stood on either side of James’s door, waiting for him to come out.

The moment he walked across the threshold, he froze. As if time had stood still, his life flashed before his eyes as the tip of a wand jabbed him in his neck. Lucius grabbed him by the hair, yanked him out into the hallway and forced him down to his knees.

Bellatrix dashed into the bedroom, stunning Sirius before he woke up. She grabbed his wand and ran back, handing the weapon to Lucius. Her fingers curled around his neck, her nails dug into the flesh. “You think you can just take my son, do yea? He’s mine, you hear me? MINE!”

“What’s going on?” James sat back, shaking and heaving in deep breaths. “Where’s Harry?”

Lucius spit in his face. He ran the tip of his wand across his cheek in slow strokes, provoking his fear to heighten. “The Order will have to promote Moody, I suppose. There’s no one else left…”

“What are you talking about? Where is my father?”

“Oh, James, my boy.” Lord Voldemort re-entered the hallway alone. He waved his wand over the puddle of blood, dissipating it. “You didn’t honestly think I’d allow you to remain in control forever, did you? Trying to hide from me behind the Fidelius Charm? Planning to keep my boy from me, were you? You’ve done your utmost to spoil my victory, but tonight all of that ends.”

“He took my boy! Leaves him in the hallway lying in a puddle of blood! Let me do it!” shrieked Bellatrix.

James’s pleading eyes welled with tears. “What do you want from me?!” he screamed.

Tom cupped his chin ever so gently, lifting his head to look into his hazel eyes. “What is it I want, my son? I just simply want you to die.”

“Father…”

“Do it,” Voldemort ordered, his eyes locked with James’s.

Lucius took a deep breath. “ _Avada Kedavra!_ ”

In a flash of green light, James made a sound as if taking his last breath, and all three shivered at the gasping noise stuck in his throat. He fell to the floor and away from his father’s grip, making no more movement.

Bellatrix nudged her toe along his side. Satisfied, she turned towards the smaller bedroom to gather her son, but Voldemort grabbed her arm. “He stays here.”

“Are you mad?” She blanched. “You can’t leave him here to wake up and find him! What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“That’s precisely what I want to happen, dear. You see, he saw the murder of his father, the way I wanted him to see it.” He shoved her at Lucius. “Don’t let her touch Harry. Get her out of here.” Taking Sirius’s wand, he walked into James’s bedroom and stood over the stunned young man lying half-way off the bed. “Ah, there you are, you pathetic mongrel.” He yanked him off the bed, dragging him into the hallway.

* * *

 

**MURDER!**

_James Riddle, the son of Lord Voldemort, heir of Slytherin, leader of the Order of the Phoenix has been found dead in his home. He was twenty-six. This delivers a great blow for the Order, who have dwindled in numbers over the last decade. A representative for the council had no comment._

_Shocking revelations of murder! Sirius Black; also aged twenty-six; refused to admit wrongdoing and has stunned the wizarding community. Riddle’s five-year-old son, Harry James, witness for the Ministry has been returned to our beloved emperor’s care. Black has been placed in Ministry custody, and the Death Eaters will make a statement sometime later today…_

* * *

 

Draco sat on the edge of his chair, kicking his feet to lessen the boredom. Narcissa tapped his arm. He groaned and let his legs fall back into place. “When can I see Harry? It’s been ages.”

“He’ll be out soon. The medi-wizard needs to fix him up so he’ll get over that nasty thing he had to witness.”

The boy was unable to contain the smile that grew large on his lips. “I want to see a dead body, too. I’ve never seen one before.”

“Don’t be daft, Draco.” Narcissa closed her eyes and shook her head. “The poor child just saw his father die. Don’t you dare say a word to embarrass me in front of You-Know-Who.”

Draco glanced up at his mother from the corner of his eye. Nothing would excite him more than to see the corpse of another wizard. It was something he had thought about all day after hearing the grim news. “Will they show his body at the funeral?”

Narcissa sighed. “Yes, I suppose so.”

The door at the end of the hospital wing opened, and Lord Voldemort walked out holding his son’s hand. Narcissa and Draco stood up, looking them over.

“Are you all right?” she said as they approached. The child was pale and dazed, but nodded at her question.

“He’s been given some things that’ll make him a bit sleepy for a day or so. I’m going to take him home.”

Harry waved at his friend. Draco hugged him in return. “I’ve been so worried. When can you come over?”

“I don’t know.” He looked up at his father with pleading eyes.

“This weekend, if you’re feeling up to it.” He lifted the boy into his arms and bid the two Malfoys farewell. He needed to get home, to hold his heir and make things up to him. The boy had done exactly what he wanted him to; woken up next to the body finding his dead father and his lover lying on top of him—with his wand shoved down his throat. Like a good little boy that he was, he called the constabulary and Tom and sat in a corner of the room sucking his thumb until they arrived.

The Order was all but finished. Sirius Black had been given a one-way trip to Azkaban and James would be six feet under in a matter of days. Lord Voldemort hugged his boy as they walked out of St. Mungo’s; looking up to the sky, knowing nothing would ever stand between him and Harry again.

* * *

 

May, 1992

Sitting outside of the headmaster’s office, Harry stole a glance at the girl sitting at the opposite end of the row of chairs he was sitting at. She hid her face in her hands as she bawled into them. Looking up and seeing Harry watching her, she wailed and covered her purple-tinted face again.

“Mr Riddle.” Severus Snape waved the young man into his office. He scanned over the frizzy haired girl and smirked. “Miss Granger, try and keep it down to a dull roar.”

“Look, I’m sorry. Don’t tell my mother or she’ll take me out again.” Harry put on his most apologetic face, pouting at the man who sat down behind his desk.

Snape glowered at him. “She’s so close to permanently removing you, Riddle. I cannot keep covering up for you if you don’t refrain from terrorising the Muggle-born students.”

Harry rolled his eyes as he wandered around the room. “I don’t terrorise the Muggle-borns…and she had it coming.”

“You have so much potential, but there’s nothing I can do for you if you’re no longer attending Hogwarts. Now, get out there and apologise to that girl and pray she doesn’t go to the Ministry.” Severus stood up and ushered the boy out.

The eleven year old boy exhaled a deep breath and played with his tie waiting for the smaller girl to acknowledge him. “I can fix it,” he mumbled, looking over her oddly coloured face. “It won’t last but a day anyway.”

“You’re a beast,” she whispered. “You and your cousin are both the same.”

Harry grumbled, knowing the headmaster was eyeing him from his office. “If Draco tells you to shut up, you’d better listen. He’s not used to Mudbloods like you being loud and bossy in his presence.”

Hermione grabbed up her books. “You’re going to be sorry for that. You mark my word.” Before he could react, she ran off down the hallway.

* * *

 

“Oh my god, what took so long?” Draco pulled Harry into a headlock and wrestled him down onto his bed. He climbed on top of him, holding him down against the mattress. “I thought they sent you home again, you bloody prat! I almost started crying!”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Harry threaded his fingers through his friend’s white hair, twining it up to gain leverage. “Snape’s not going to tell. If I’m pulled out again he’ll be fired.” He wrestled Draco down, threading his arms around his neck.

“Take your shoes off the bed, pups.” The shadow of the Head of Slytherin House loomed over the dorm room bed. Harry and Draco sat apart as fast as they could and kicked their shoes off. “What have I told you two about rolling around on the bed together like lovers and keeping things tidy?” Fenrir dragged his dirty yellowy fingernails along the frame of the door as he watched them.

“My apologies, Professor, we got carried away. Harry got sent to the headmaster’s office again and-” Draco cut himself off, gritting his teeth.

Harry gasped. “Draco, shut up!”

The werewolf glowered at the young prince. His thin lips parted to bare his teeth at him. “What have you done now? There’s only a few weeks left until term ends. You assured me there would be no more problems!” As pretty as they were, the old werewolf despised their lack of self control. With one hand, he wrenched Harry up by the scruff and stood him on his feet. “That’s detention for you, all week, starting right now. If I find out you’ve gotten into trouble once more I’ll be informing your father.”

Harry looked over his shoulder and glared daggers at Draco. “Fuck you, you fucking snitch,” he whispered as he was dragged from the dorm room.

“Nice work, Draco.” Blaise Zabini snorted and returned his attention to his book. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle snickered under their hands. Theodore Nott shrugged indifferently. “Riddle’s in for it. Greyback’s been waiting to get him alone for a month so he can tan his arse. Harry told me the other day his father gave him permission to whoop him good.”

“It just slipped!” Draco threw his pillow across the room and crossed his arms over his chest.

* * *

 

It was nearly midnight, and Draco sat in his bed holding Moony. Harry’s bed remained empty and it worried him to bits. Never before had Greyback kept him out for such a long period of time. He hoped his cousin hadn’t done something to get himself tossed out of school again.

The door creaked open. Draco fell back into bed pretending to be asleep. Fenrir’s amber eyes scanned over the slept-in beds before entering the room. He slipped inside, carrying the small boy in his arms. Harry curled up on his side the moment he was rested down on the mattress, fast asleep.

As the Head of the House left, Draco leapt from his bed and climbed into Harry’s. He stuffed Moony under his chin and wrapped his arm around him. “I’m sorry. I hope you didn’t get whooped too badly.”

Harry latched onto Moony and rolled onto his back, too exhausted to speak. Dirt caked his fingernails and he smelled of cleaning solution. Draco scrunched his nose at the pungent aroma. He petted Harry’s hair as he drifted off to sleep, hoping he wouldn’t be too angry with him.

* * *

 

“Riddle!”

Harry snorted at the sound of his name being called. His grudge against Draco ended at that very moment. He gripped his arm and stood him up from the dining table. Both boys turned, watching Ron and the rest of the second year Gryffindor males approach them. “Hey, Weasel,” he said with a smirk. “I see you’ve got another problem with me. Shocking.” He giggled under his hand while he rubbed up next to his cousin. “Takes next to nothing to set you blood-traitors off, sodding gingers. Out with it then, come on. What do you need to whine about now?”

Ron scowled at him. “You think you’re so special being He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s little brat. I should tell you that you’re not. No one worth a lick of spit picks on girls the way you do.”

Draco glanced back at the teacher’s table, hoping they hadn’t noticed the impending fight. Greyback and Snape were oblivious at the moment. He turned back sneering, gripping his wand. “Yeah, what about your Mudblood girlfriend? What’s she whining about now?”

“Hermione woke up this morning with green hair. You ever hex her again I’ll beat you so badly your ugly mum won’t recognise you.” He matched their angry glares with his own.

“That nosey bitch had it coming.” Harry faked a yawn and Draco snickered. “Why don’t we take this outside?”

Ron snorted and nudged Dean. “Why, you afraid of the werewolf?”

Grey and green eyes narrowed. “I don’t want to get sent home when I smash your face in,” he replied. Crabbe and Goyle stood up behind their house mates, both balling their hands into tight fists.

“Ha, as if that could happen. You just keep your distance from her.”

“Hey, Weasel,” Draco piped in. “how many of your brothers wore those robes before they got handed down to you? 20? 25?”

“Oh, get bent, Malfoy! Your whole family is full of filthy trash disguised by money. Run along and tell your father about _that_. Better yet; why not fall on the floor and throw a bloody tantrum like you did at your birthday party so we can all stand around you and have another laugh!” He tossed both boys a rude gesture. “Don’t mess to Hermione ever again!” Ron whirled around and signalled to Seamus, Dean, and Neville to retreat.

Harry threw his arms around Draco, pinning his arms to his sides to stop him from throwing a curse. He looked up, feeling a large hand squeeze his shoulder. Fenrir stood beside him picking bits of ham from his pointed teeth. Without looking down, he tapped his finger over the face of his watch. “Are you forgetting something?”

He groaned. “I’ll get changed and be there in a moment.” His seventh and final detention was to be held in the potions classroom. Another awful day would be spent cleaning up guts and blood.

* * *

 

Fenrir sat at the teacher’s desk with his feet propped up. He never liked the room himself, the foul smells emanating from all the strange jars and ingredients plastered all over the room curled his whiskers. Harry was on his hands and knees scouring the floor with a heavy brush he dipped into a cauldron of thick cleaning solvent. Watching the pup engaged in manual labour was a particular favourite of his. Harry was a gorgeous little morsel of a creature needing to be watched whenever possible.

“Your mum sent me a letter this evening,” he said, feeling around in his slim pockets, “Kind of nutters anymore, isn’t she?”

Harry refused to take the bait. “What’d it say?”

“What did it say ‘Professor’?”

“Sorry.” Harry shook his brush of excess fluid and dropped it back onto a large grease spot. “What did it say, Professor?”

Fenrir chortled. “She’s worried about her pretty little boy in this enormous school with such a big bad werewolf so close to him. Anxious to have you removed once more. Thinks you need another year at home, etcetera, excreta…Your father won’t have it. You are to be disciplined to the strictest of senses and grow up to be a man worthy of his title…Personally, I think all you need is a thorough beating and learning to sleep on your own without a teddy bear.”

Harry frowned. “It’s not a teddy. It’s my Moony.”

“Whatever,” he said through a yawn. “Stop picking on the Muggle-borns. Only two weeks left until the end of term, gives me less of a reason to want to tear your back open.”

The words sent a shiver down the boy’s spine. “I’m sorry. I won’t bother her again, Professor.” Without noticing him stand or move through the room, Harry felt heated breath on the nape of his neck. Two large hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him back against his haunches. He cringed, feeling the jagged edge of pointy teeth press against his collarbone.

“I know you won’t,” Fenrir whispered in his ear, yearning to taste his blood and make the dark prince one of his own. His large arms enveloped the boy, holding him close as to not allow him any chance of escape. He sniffed the air, nearly coming in his trousers from the scent of fear wafting through the room. “You tremble so innocently for me. It is such a pity your father is the only wizard I respect.”

“Don’t do this.” Harry’s voice barely registered. He had seen the wrath of his Head of the House before. Two fellow Slytherins had been permanently removed from school over the year due to his lack of restraint. He felt the man’s warm moist tongue being dragged up the length of his neck. Felt his lips latch onto the spot behind his ear. Tears spilt from his eyes as he struggled to break free. “You promised my mum you wouldn’t do this to me.”

The fear the child was giving off tantalised the werewolf. He found himself fighting to resist, dying to sink his canines into the boy’s flesh. “…but I want to. You don’t know how difficult it is to sit here and watch you and not know what your blood tastes like,” he whispered. His sharp fangs grazed along the line of Harry’s throat, scraping the skin. After a long moment of petting, he thought better of it. He released him and stood up. “I want to tear you apart, sweet thing.” The temptation was far too great but the Dark Lord would surely not understand. “Go back to the common room. I don’t want to be alone with you again.”

Harry ran for the door without looking back.

* * *

 

Draco waited again until lights out before climbing into Harry’s bed. The curtains were pulled closed, they tangled their limbs with their lips resting against their cheeks. “Please stop crying. You need to tell on him. You should tell your mum or Snape,” he whispered. He smoothed back the hair from boy’s face and kissed his lips. “She’ll get him sacked.”

Harry buried his face in Draco’s neck. “My father thinks he’s good for me. And he said he didn’t want to be alone with me again. It’ll be all right.”

The other boy tensed up. “No, he’s going to get you. I’ll tell my father about this. He’ll tell your father to sack him.”

Harry closed his eyes, so thankful he’d gotten to leave unscathed. “Mum is paranoid. She’s gone mad. If she hears that he’s touched me she’ll keep me out next year.”

“Fine.” Draco placed Moony under his friend’s chin before pressing their lips back together. Harry’s fingers enmeshed in his white hair. He let him kiss him like his father kissed his mother after a fight. It made all of the bad thoughts fade away, at least for the night. Draco tipped back for air. “Go to sleep now. I won’t tell only because you asked me not to. It wouldn’t be right without you being here.”

“Thank you, Draco,” he said, his voice trailing off as he drifted into slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for the lovely comments. It felt really nice knowing some of you like my story. I know it's not as interesting or what most people are looking for but I've never been that author and sometimes I question whether I should become that type of writer. I began writing an outline for a work of fiction I've been trying to bring together for years but I don't have the courage yet to actually write the damned thing. Anyway, thank you all so much again. Love you :)


	6. A Proper Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After spending most of the summer holiday with Bellatrix, Harry is allowed to stay with the Malfoys for two of the three remaining weeks before school resumes and they begin their second year at Hogwarts.

 

Lord Voldemort watched the children running about, scrambling for their carriages to go home. His eyes scanned their faces and centred on the ebony-haired child on the steps of the main door. A smile curled his lips, his heart expanded several sizes as mirth filled his veins. He raised a hand, giving the child indication of his presence. He anticipated the boy’s return. Life just wasn’t the same without him there. He bent down with his arms outstretched, eager to hold him again, to feel his warmth against him.

Harry whirled around on the steps as he caught sight of his father. He waved and dashed towards him. Looking more beautiful than anything his eyes had laid upon over the last nine months besides Draco, Harry shivered as he reached him and threw himself into his embrace. “I can’t believe it! I’ve passed, I’ve passed!” He nuzzled into Voldemort’s arms and kissed his lips. “I’ve got so much to tell you about. I can’t catch my breath, I’m so happy to see you.”

Tom found himself unable to let him go for several minutes. “I’ve been waiting so long to have you back with me. It was nearly unbearable being alone all that time with your loony mother.” He took his hand and they walked to the boundaries of the school, passing the tall iron gates and its winged boars. “Hold on tight, baby. Let’s go home.” Harry took a deep breath and braced himself, clutching the emperor’s arm as they stepped forth into apparition. He dearly hated that mode of travel. 

They appeared in the garden of Riddle House and Harry exhaled, thankful it was over. Bellatrix ran from the back door and scurried across the grass, her once long dark hair was more grey and matted than Harry could remember. Her face was gaunt, her hands skeletal. “Give him to me!” she hissed, grabbing the boy up into her arms. She smelled of gin and cigarettes as she clenched him to her breast and dragged him back inside to check him over. 

“Everything off, everything OFF!” she demanded in her frightening voice that always sent shivers down Harry’s spine. She tore his school uniform off as if it were on fire. Fully undressed, she flipped him around, her eyes taking in every ounce of his pale flesh for marks. She held him by the shoulder, shaking him so hard his neck nearly snapped. “He…he hasn’t touched you, has he? You would tell me, right, baby?” 

“Professor Greyback or Sirius Black?” She tested the running tap water over the large basin before shoving Harry into the tub. He came up for air, clutching the side of it. “No one’s touched me, I swear.” 

“Discipline, he’s there to give him discipline, Bella. Get it through your fucking head already.” Tom was in the doorway. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Get out. I want to be alone with him.” 

“I’m just giving him a bath. I’ll have him ready for supper in a minute.” Her arms circled Harry’s wet shoulders. She flinched as her husband bellowed “ _GET OUT!”_ once more. Kissing the top of his head, she released him. “Fuck off! Have him down for dinner by five, you great stupid bastard!” She shoved the man out of her way and left the room. 

Lord Voldemort closed and locked the door before kneeling aside the porcelain basin. “I don’t know why I haven’t killed her yet.” 

“Because you love her.” 

He unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up, smirking at his son. “Oh, I do, do I?” 

Harry was giddy to be home. “Yes, you absolutely do.” 

The lord rolled his eyes. “Tell me about your adventures.”Tom reached for a cloth floating in the bath and wrung it out between his hands. “Tell me everything, baby.” 

Harry hugged his knees as the older man ran the soft terry over his back. “Well, Draco’s a great louse. He snitches on me all the time. Everyone in the other houses hate me. I learnt how to turn a goblet into a bookend and I can use a counter curse faster than anyone else in the whole school.” 

“Chin up.” Tom tapped his jaw and rubbed the cloth around his throat, tracing his fingers up to his ears. “They don’t check on your hygiene there, it seems. You’ve got potato roots growing here.” 

“I don’t!” Harry stuck his fingers in his ears to be sure. “Professor Greyback says all of his pups need to be clean for him at all times.” 

“He did, did he? Interesting…Put your head back.” His weakness betrayed him. The old feelings returned so quickly, watching the beloved boy splash around beneath him. No matter how baldy he denied it to himself, he was attracted to him. It was unnatural, but he could control it. He turned his head, taking his attention to the floor. 

“…are you angry?” 

“What…?” he murmured, lost in a daze. 

Harry was facing him now. He sat on his knees, taking the man’s face in his hands. He rubbed Voldemort’s cheek and gave it a pat. “It’s all right, he’s promised I would never to be alone with him again. Mum would be so upset. You won’t tell her, will you?” 

The phrase pulled the man out of his reverie to look up at him. “He said what? Who are you talking about?"

"Professor Greyback, daddy...remember?"

Tom blinked. "Has something happened? Did he touch you, Harry?” The words of the head of Slytherin gnawed at him like a dull blade against the flesh. Had Bellatrix been right to worry? Would that foul creature, not good enough to brandish the Dark Mark but vile enough to protect his son, be a threat to him, too? 

“Please don’t tell mummy, Tom." Harry stopped himself, now wishing he hadn't said anything. "I didn't mean it. Nothing happened.” 

There was fear in Harry's eyes, and lies in his answers. Tom's mouth dropped open in stunned shock. The swell of hot anger began to grow inside of him at the thought of someone preying on his child. “What did he do to you?” He held the boy by the arms, shaking him to spill the truth. “Don’t hold back, tell me everything. Start from the beginning.” 

Harry crumbled, unwilling to attempt to suppress the terror he felt looking into his father’s blood red eyes. He sobbed, spilling his guts to the man. And, despite being told a million times that Riddles never cry he could not stop himself this time. “…and that’s it. Nothing happened, I swear, Tom. Please don’t be mad at me anymore…” 

Voldemort pulled him out of the tub and cradled him in his lap, ignoring the water soaking through his clothes. No one would ever do that to his innocent child again. No one.

 

* * *

 

The Dark Lord stayed quite busy during the summer. Work piled up, new laws were being set in place to again restrict Muggle-born magic users from learning defences. A great uproar squashed his plans of this more than once since James’s death despite his power over the Ministry of Magic. 

The rebellion formed to directly oppose him. Now formally called The Order of the Phoenix, they grew in numbers, over the next few years over tighter restrictions to Muggle-born magic user. Arthur Weasley, formerly the Head of the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defencive Spells and Protective Objects for the Ministry of Magic, had taken on the leadership role, at least temporarily. It was rumoured that one or more of his sons were being groomed for the permanent position. It was another crushing blow to the side of the dark. Arthur was widely known and a kind-hearted man, well liked by a majority of witches and wizards in Wizarding Britain. 

When he did manage to come home, the fighting would almost certainly resume. The occurrences were so frequent now he’d stopped erasing Harry’s memories for fear of damaging his mind. Besides, he needed to learn that women were great fucking disappointments and that young boys were meant to obey. 

With autumn leaves changing into shades of yellows and oranges, the time for Harry to return to school loomed like a shadow over Bellatrix. Her hair had thick grey streaks lining it, and she was scrawny; her shapely frame had all but diminished. Regardless, she was still the apple of her son’s eye, the most beautiful woman in the world as far as he was concerned. They did everything together over the summer, and this evening was no different. 

“…and none of them ever knew or suspected that the Fountain’s waters carried no enchantment at all..” She closed the book and set it to her side. Harry snuggled into her embrace and took in the great warmth of the fire they had rested by. “Did you like it? It was my favourite when I was a little girl. We weren’t allowed to read it as Sir Luckless is a Muggle but I’d always told myself he was a wizard. I liked to pretend I was Amata and Narcissa and Andromeda were Altheda and Asha. That I would be the one to find true love…” She frowned, looking down at her frail frame. “That the one I married would not be the one who broke my heart, he’d be my handsome knight.” 

“But you are Amata!” Harry clung to her, forcing her to look at him. “You’re my Amata.” He hummed against her neck. “Next time you read it to me I’m going to pretend that you’re reading a tale about us, and I’m your Sir Luckless, who is one hundred percent pure-blood wizard, and the man that broke your heart is Tom, and he’s probably a Muggle and the story got it mixed up. I think that would make it loads better.” 

Bellatrix closed her eyes, squeezing out the warm tears building up under her lashes. She kissed Harry’s cheek and hugged him tight. “No one’s ever said that to me and meant it. I think I’d be honoured to be yours, darling.” She snorted while she circled her arms around his neck. “I always thought Tom reminded me of the warlock in the tale I read you last night.” 

He giggled for a moment but his scar erupted in tingles. His heart began to beat faster against his chest as he took his mother’s frail hand into his. “He’s just told me he’s coming home,” he told her in an almost dreamlike state. He got up and yanked her arm to help her stand. “C’mon. I can sense he’s angry about something, mum. We should go upstairs and hide.” He saw the snake enter the room to greet her master. _“~Calm him down for us.~”_

“Just you.” Bellatrix swatted his bum and gave him a shove toward the rounded staircase. “Go get in bed. He’ll be so cross if he knows you’re still up.” 

 _“~I’ll calm him down. Take her upstairs_.~” The large serpent proceeded toward the back of the home. 

Harry stopped on the bottom step. He turned around to face his mother, hearing the door in the mud room open and slam shut. She had her back to him. As the man entered the room, the boy ran up behind her and threw his arms around her waist. He felt her stiffen up and hold her breath, knowing she wouldn’t be able to protect them both if his anger was directed toward them. 

Tom dropped his hat on an arm chair. “Why are you two still up?” 

They stood in silence for a few seconds before Harry nudged his mother, awakening her from hypnotic state. “Oh, um, I was reading baby one of my favourite fairy tales. He’d never heard it before.” 

“I thought I’d read all of them to him…except maybe the banned ones.” Voldemort checked his watch. “I suppose it’s not too late. Up for a nightcap, love?” 

Everyone else in the room released a sigh. Nagini winked at the boy and headed back toward her terrarium to warm up. Bellatrix’s muscles slackened. “Yes, my handsome king, I’d love to have a drink with you. WIGGY! Get in here, make us some drinks!” 

“~ _Wrong way, Nagini. The nursery’s upstairs.~_ ” Lord Voldemort crossed the room, snapping his fingers at the boy peeking at him through the open space between his mother’s arm and waist. He gestured toward the staircase while Bellatrix reached behind her back to give him a pat. “You should have been in bed over an hour ago. Big day tomorrow, you know.” He took Bellatrix around the waist and bent her over his arm. He blew the boy a kiss. “Off to nursery with you, mummy and daddy need some alone time.” 

A diminutive house-elf appeared in the centre of the sitting room. Her great pink eyes were nearly bulging from her skull. “ _Wiggy is here, madam! She is making those drinks right this moment!”_

Harry kissed his mother’s back and ran up the stairs, so thankful his father wasn’t angry with them tonight and that he’d be going to stay on with Draco over the next two weeks. 

 

* * *

  

Draco shifted around in his chair watching the clock ticking. “It’s never going to be time,” he growled. 

Narcissa primped her hair in the mirror and wiped the dark lipstick from her teeth. “Oh, get a grip, dear, they’ll be here.” 

The fireplace ignited, filling the room with a green radiance. Bellatrix and Harry stepped out of the pit and brushed off their clothing. “We’re here, darling,” she said, turning to her sister and kissing her cheek. She thrust Harry’s bag and a satchel of gold Galleons at the woman before cupping her son’s face for a big kiss. “I have to get back, he’s in an unusually good mood for once. Don’t want to miss a minute of that.” She kissed his cheeks and his lips. “I’ll see you in two weeks, baby.” 

A large portrait of the two children hung on the wall. The images of a younger Draco and Harry gazed around and to each other so prettily against the simple grey backdrop. Harry scrunched his nose at it, hating the picture. Every time he’d lock eyes with himself he’d give it a rude gesture or stick his tongue out. Narcissa patted the boy’s shoulder, her nose equally scrunched at the lithe appearance and hasty departure of her sister. “Does she eat?” 

Harry looked up at her and shrugged. “Sometimes.” 

“How have things been at home?” She picked at his hair, straightening out the ruffled strands. 

“Bad, awful,” he replied, ducking from a swing Draco had taken at him. “They fight all the time…‘Cept last night. They only fought in bed, which is a good thing because mum isn’t trying to kill him and she’s not crying. Bad because they made me sleep with Nagini in the nursery.” He wagged his eyebrows at her and hitched a thumb at his cousin. “It means they were shagging. Draco told me all about it.” 

“We have no time for talking, mother. I’ve got big plans for today.” He clutched Harry’s arm and dragged him off before the stunned woman could stop them. 

 

* * *

 

 The boys sat at the counter, their long legs dangling over the barstools. Both kicked out at Narcissa’s fat fluffy cat as it passed by. They dragged their fingers through the thick butter cream left on the preparation table, lapping it off of their digits and laughing at each other’s pasted noses. 

“Oh no, guess who’s coming to stay with us? I’d nearly forgotten.” Draco grabbed Harry’s face in his hands and licked the remainder of cream-dollop off the tip of his nose. 

“Gods, not Crabbe and Goyle...Ugh! Please tell me it’s not true!” Harry held his hands over his heart and fell off his stool, feigning a perfect death. 

Draco looked down at him. There was a sudden urge to climb on top of him and hold him down. This wasn’t something new to him, this struggle to overpower and dominate had a grip on him since as long as he could remember, and he’d had plenty of experience with it, too. Without a second thought, he dipped his fingers through the butter cream and dropped down over Harry, straddling his hips. 

Harry wasn’t a cat or a dog; he had no interest in harming or scaring him silly. Nor did he feel the same thrill that crushing a slug under the heel of his shoe gave him. He leaned in, looking around the room to be sure they were alone. Harry opened his eyes and lifted a hand, but Draco pushed it back down to paint his lips with the cream. He gathered his wrists, pinning them down over his stomach. “I’ve got you.” This was power. The tingles that spread throughout his body jounced around inside him and came out through his teeth. This felt so different than holding a beloved pet of his mother’s against its will and strangling the life from it to watch its eyes bulge out. This wasn’t that. This was real…this was true love. “I’m going to kiss you and you’re going to let me or I’ll do it anyway.” 

“We always kiss,” Harry informed him. He jerked at his wrists. 

“I learnt how to kiss like adults do,” Draco explained. He tightened his grip over Harry’s wrists. “Are you going to let me or not?” 

“Tell me what to do first and I will.” 

Draco grinned. “Brilliant! Okay, close your eyes and open your mouth, but only a little bit. I’m going to open mine a little, too, and press it to your lips at an angle. Then I’m going to open your mouth with my mouth a little more and stick my tongue inside. You stick yours in mine. Make sure it’s soft and wet and don’t go in too far. Keep it pliable, really wet because that’s the best. Move it shyly, then every once in a while give it a little flick or a rough scrape. We’re going to move them against each other because it feels really good. Okay, are you ready?” 

“Yeah, ready,” Harry said, eager to try it. He let his eyelids flutter closed. 

Draco leaned in and pressed his lips over the other boy’s mouth and dipped his tongue inside, scraping it against his cousin’s. He slipped a hand behind his neck to draw him closer. They melted into the kiss. Harry let him guide him through it. It felt like nothing they’d ever tried before. His hands came up and circled the other boy’s neck. 

The blond sat back when they were done and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Did you like that? Gemma Farley taught me how to do that.” He knew- deep down that Harry was feeling exactly the same way he was. “It felt really good. Did you like it, too? I love you,” he breathed. “Do you love me, too?” 

“I did and I do.” Harry craned his neck, trying to look over the counter to see who was coming. “I hear someone out there.” 

“Don’t tell anyone, this is our secret.” He bent forward, pinning Harry’s hands over his head and pressed his lips over his mouth again. It was a chaste billowy kiss they shared. The blond sat up and smiled. “I’m going to do this you all the time, whenever I can.” 

“I want you to do it to me again tonight.” It brought a smile to Harry’s face, seeing his best friend light up so brightly, feeling his warmth and desire to be close to him. Despite him being an utter brat, his feelings for him were indelible; he did love him. Oh, yes, did he love him. 

 

* * *

 

After two hours of sitting still for yet another portrait being created of them, Narcissa snapped her fingers at Draco and Harry. They fell slack against the other. “Both of you march up to your rooms and take those clothes off. Have Dobby bring them down to be laundered,” she ordered. 

Harry bolted to his room and fell backward on his bed. He pulled his shoes and socks off, kicking them across the floor. He lay on his back, working his tie free for nearly twenty minutes before a soft knock sounded at the door. “Come in.” 

“You’re not changed yet? Dobby already has my clothes,” Draco whined. He leaned up against the ceiling-high bedpost, staring down at the smaller boy. 

“I was thinking about stuff,” Harry explained. He sat up and unbuttoned his shirt. 

Draco crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me,” he said, intrigued. 

Harry stood up and slipped his trousers down his legs. “Just personal stuff.” 

“You’re not supposed to keep secrets from me. You know that.” He took a few steps toward Harry and pushed him back on the bed. Harry huffed as he tried to sit up but Draco jumped over him and held him down. 

“Tell me what stuff.” 

“It’s stupid, get off me,” he griped, and turned his head away from Draco’s annoying stare. 

With a sigh, the blond fell over to the side of the bed and propped his head in his hands. “I thought we were best friends. Best friends don’t keep secrets.” 

“Sorry, it’s about stuff you don’t care about, that’s all. No big deal,” Harry told him. “I was just thinking about my father. My real father...” 

“Oh, him,” Draco said, sticking out his tongue at Harry. “Why were you thinking about him? The world is better off without him.” 

Harry growled under his breath. 

“What, it’s true. He knocked up a Mudblood, Harry. You’re not even pure because of him.” 

“Oh, shut up.” He was tired of having that thrown at him all the time. 

“You’re only a half-blood because he’s evil and loves to defy You-Know-Who.” Draco shrugged. “Well, that’s what my father says.” 

“Yeah? Well your father kind of looks like a woman,” Harry said, growing tetchy. “As do you.” 

Draco fumed, feeling his cheeks turn bright pink. “Take that back!” he hissed. He got up on his knees and held up a fist. “We do not!” 

Dobby stood in the doorway, his saucer-round eyes widening in horror. “Master Draco should not hit Master Harry, sir!” He scrambled over to the bed and tugged at Harry’s trousers, still stuck around his ankles. “Master Harry needs to give Dobby his clothes. Mistress Narcissa will be most displeased if he’s wrinkled them.” 

“I wasn’t going to hit him. Don’t tell my mother,” Draco pleaded. 

Dobby glared back at the blond as he folded the trousers over his small arm. “Master Draco had best be careful. Dobby is watching him very closely. Master Harry is our Lord‘s son and should not be harmed at any time by any witch or wizard.” 

“It’s all right, Dobby. Go take those clothes down to the wash before Mrs Malfoy gets too nutters,” Harry told him, easing his worry. He smiled at the house-elf as he pulled on a pair of jeans. 

Dobby beamed at the boy as he backed out of the room. “Master Harry can tell Dobby if Master Draco tries to hurt him. Dobby has special permission from the Lord himself to keep his son protected at all times,” he said, and closed the door. 

Harry snorted and hitched a thumb at the door. “And that’s your house-elf. He hates you.” 

“He does not. He’s just watching you like an old granny because you’re still a baby,” Draco informed him in a snooty voice. “I think Dobby is taking his responsibility a little bit too far. I’m not a threat to you.” 

“Are we going to go flying or what? I’m bored,” Harry droned, holding his broomstick at his side. “I thought Crabbe and Goyle were coming over…Maybe you should invite Ron Weasley over instead,” he teased him, tittering under his hand. 

“Now I am going to hurt you,” Draco snarled, climbing off the bed. He loomed closer to Harry as he backed away, fighting to calm his giggling fit. 

“Well, he is a pure-blood!” he teased. “You’re so bloody fond of them, it seems.” 

“Ron Weasley is a poor pathetic excuse for a wizard! He’s foul, Harry! I would never choose him over you!” he yelled, forcing the other boy against the wall. He grabbed his broomstick and tossed it aside before pinning him flat with his chest. 

Harry shrugged. “Calm down, I wasn’t serious. I’d kill you if you chose him over me.” 

Draco lit up. He grabbed Harry’s hands and pinned them to his sides. “And so he admits his undying devotion to me at last.” Harry furrowed his brow as the taller boy’s face hovered just over his. “You do, don’t you?” 

“I do…but, you can’t kiss me today,” he said, turning his head as Draco ran his tongue across his lips. “Stop it. Don’t do that.” 

Draco frowned. “Why not? You love when I kiss you. I won’t be able to kiss you again once Crabbe and Goyle get here…so why not now?” 

Harry turned back and bit down over Draco’s lip, causing him to yelp. “Because my father’s coming to get me tomorrow and I can’t be dirty. He’ll know if we’ve done stuff,” he said, smirking at the small trickle of blood forming under the blond’s bottom lip. “He’ll read my mind. I’m not strong enough to block out recent memories from him. Not yet, at least.” 

Draco backed away and glared at him. “Fine, I’m not kissing you anymore.” 

Harry gasped. “You don’t have to be that way…I’m sorry.” 

He rushed back, shoving Harry back. “I’m joking. I’ll never stop kissing you.” He wiped the blood from his chin and pressed his lips over his mouth in defiance. “You’re mine, mine, mine…” He kissed him several times, whispering the word ‘Mine’ in between each one. 

“I have kissed like that before, but yours was better. Softer.” Harry sighed with content. He pulled away before it grew, knowing Draco wouldn’t stop. “Your kisses don’t burn my face because you don’t have any whiskers.” 

“You have?” Draco gasped with jealousy. “Better than whose? Who else has kissed you?” 

“Who do you think?” Harry licked the remnants of Draco’s blood from his lips and giggled, feeling his cheeks burn hot from flushing. “My father, stupid.”

 

* * *

 

*The fairy tale Bellatrix was quoting was from the story: “The Fountain of Fair Fortune”, from the book “The Tales of Beedle the Bard”.


	7. Portraits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are great consequences to Draco and Harry's actions. A new Head of Slytherin is set in place and the reason for his desire to open the Chamber of Secrets will remain hidden...for now.

 

Lord Voldemort stood tall in the Malfoy foyer, hands clasped behind his back looking devoid of emotion while he observed the still-wet but completed portrait of Draco and Harry hanging in line on the wall with their older ones. Both boys had grown so tall and beautiful. Their legs were too long, their baby-faces were perched on adolescent-sized frames. And as he watched them, something about their body language began to weave a tale that he could not have thought possible before; he sensed a dark haunting romance in the way they gazed at the other and clasped hands. They stood in the presence of the Dark Lord but only saw each other. The sweet aura of innocence that always shrouded his milquetoast son was no longer there. Tom’s pale skin turned a shade of off-white as he watched them lay their heads on the other’s shoulder while wearing looks of pure content.

Harry dragged his large bag across the hall toward him, sad he was going home his last week before school. He looked up at his father as he approached him and cringed, it appeared that he was in trouble. He stood up straight, dropping the bag next to him and smiled, hoping he might return it. 

He didn’t. “Mrs Malfoy told me you caused some trouble over the last two weeks. You broke a window, you were late for several sittings, and you and Draco disappeared for several hours every single day of your stay-over, Harry. Every single fucking day! Why do you constantly disobey my direct orders?” he scolded, flaring his nostrils. 

Harry’s smile vanished. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he half-whispered. “The window was an accident. Vince and Greg stayed over last night, we were playing Quidditch. She fixed it no problem. I-I didn’t mean to disobey.” 

Voldemort’s eyes grew darker as he listened to the child. 

Harry could sense him combing around through his memories as he crouched down to his level to add further intimidation to the small boy. He tried to stop himself from shielding them, knowing he’d find the blank spots and demand to know what he was hiding, but he lost himself in the flickers of ruby red igniting in the man’s dark irises and the bursting veins in the whites of his eyes. 

The man’s lips parted, his jaw set, blindsided by the fact that his son was even capable of that much power to hide things from him. “Are you trying to shut me out?” He looked around to be sure no one else was in the room with them. He closed his eyes and counted to ten in his head to talk himself out of strangling the boy right there inside Malfoy’s foyer. “Get your bag, we’re going,” he said, standing. “Maybe I’ll rethink the next time you want to stay on with Draco, seeing as his disobedience rubs off on you so easily.” 

Harry sniffled as he let Tom take his hand. “It doesn’t. I’ll be better for you, Tom. I’m sorry.” 

The lord pulled him into the fireplace and handed him the vase filled with floo powder. “We’ll discuss this at home.” 

 

* * *

  

Harry pulled his night shirt over his head, briefly shielding the questioning stare he held on his father. Voldemort sat in his armchair reading over a legal parchment. He held a martini glass and a cigarette in one hand, mouthing the words he was reading over. They had gone all day without speaking except when it was to ask what he and Draco were doing alone, despite being in the same rooms together for most of it. 

He pulled off his socks and threw them in the clothes bin before walking over to his side. “Tom, are you still angry at me?” he whispered in his ear, leaning over the back of the chair. He kissed his cheek and rubbed the peppery-fine hair feathering his temples in little circles because he knew that he loved it when he did that to him. 

Voldemort rolled up the parchment and flicked it backward, smacking Harry’s nose with it. 

The boy jumped and rubbed the sting away, and climbed into the bed while looking back over his shoulder to see if his father was watching him. He wasn’t. Voldemort unrolled his parchment and focused on it again between liberal sips of his drink. Harry blinked. “Do you want me to make you another martini?” 

The Dark Lord shook his head 'no' but said nothing, keeping his eyes on the paper. 

Harry crossed his legs and began picking at a scab on his ankle. “Mrs Malfoy’s ugly dog bit me the other day. It’s wicked. It chases me around the house every time it sees me. It’s lucky I didn’t kick it down the stairs,” he said, trying to make conversation. 

Tom remained focused on nursing his drink. 

Harry knitted his brow. “Oh, well, I lied, I did kick it. I kicked it out a window in the tower and it hit the ground and exploded.” 

“That’s nice,” Tom murmured. 

“I hate that sodding flat-faced pekingese. I spit on it, and then Draco and me ran outside and rolled around in it until we were covered in its guts. We played jump-rope with its entrails then we ate it, fur and all.” 

Lord Voldemort nodded. “Good on you.” 

“Then we killed Mrs Malfoy and threw her out of the tower and ate her. We let Dobby eat her, too.” 

Voldemort ruffled his papers. “Glad to see you two have found a hobby you’re good at.” 

“You’re not even listening to me, Tom!” Harry screamed, so unused to being ignored by him. 

“Hmm?” The older man looked up from them. “Of course I’m not listening to that babbling nonsense, I’m waiting on the truth. Care to confess what you and Malfoy spent all that alone time together doing, seeing as you’ve somehow managed to hide those memories from me?” 

“We didn’t do anything. I’m going to bed,” he said, glaring daggers at him. 

Voldemort stood up. “Good idea, and you can sleep alone in here tonight. I've got loads of work to finish up.” 

Harry sat up, thunderstruck. “Why are you doing this to me?!” He scrambled to climb off the bed, but Voldemort pulled his wand out and pointed it at him. Harry froze in place on his hands and knees and bowed his head to him in defeat. 

“Yes, that’s right,” the lord whispered. “You’re learning to control yourself when needed. This is all I ask. Not like your father, like Bella or the Malfoys. You know your place. You understand the importance of learning to control your emotions. ~ _Harry, look at me. Show me your eyes. Show me that you have no fear._ ~” 

He obeyed and raised his head, looking straight into his merciless black eyes. His hot breath came out in huffs. His struggle to remain calm prickled beneath his skin while staring at the wrong end of his father’s wand, but the twisted fear never surfaced on his visage. 

“That’s right, very good control. We’ll add controlling your breathing into the training. And I’ll forgo your punishment until tomorrow. Your mother will deal with that, that’s what she’s here for.” He held up a hand, seeing Harry’s lips part in protest. “I do understand that you’ve not fully matured yet, that you have a lot of pent up energy and you let the little Malfoy boy influence you into doing things without thinking, but I expect next time you learn to take what I say literally, the first time I say it or your life is going to go very differently than I’d hoped.” 

Harry found his voice. “Yes, sir, I’m so sorry.” 

Voldemort shoved his wand back in his pocket and pointed an accusing finger at the boy. “You spent too much time with that spoilt child. I can’t believe the things he says to his mother, what they let him get away with in my presence…it baffles me. I won’t have it in my home. Not from you, at least. And I’m this close to ripping your mother’s vocal chords out and sewing her mouth shut with them. I would take your life before you turned into that rotten child. I won’t even bother doing it with a curse. I’ll just snap your neck like a twig, be done with it, toss your body in the forest and let animals tear you apart.” 

“I’m so sorry, sir,” he repeated, nearly hyperventilating now. But his face and his words were solid, he was very much under control of looking and sounding indifferent despite how badly his hands trembled or how loud his breathing sounded. 

Voldemort features softened. Harry seemed to have gotten the point and he’d frightened him enough for one night. “Come now,” he said to sooth him as he walked back to the bed. He set his drink and papers down on the table and turned to him. “No more of this crying. Can you imagine the scandal if I started crying after being hit by a curse or someone hurt my feelings? Never show anyone weakness. Riddles never cry.” 

“I’m not crying, sir.” He winced as the large hands encircled his waist to put him back to bed. 

Voldemort sat down next to him on the edge. He pushed his chin up and removed his glasses. “No, you’re right, no tears. Good. That’s very good, baby.” He smoothed his messy hair back while his fingers traced along his pretty profile, running over his skin from temple to neck. Their eyes locked but Voldemort looked away, to the door. 

“Your mother, is she in her room?” 

“Yes, sir, I think she’s sleeping.” 

He closed his eyes to fight off the lust that seemed to have magnified over the last two weeks without Harry in his presence. He reminisced about that bloody portrait he’d been staring at, seeing Draco and Harry get lost in useless puppy-love. He picked up his work and drink and walked to the door. “Go to sleep. We’ll go over the events of your little holiday in the morning.” 

Harry nodded and crawled up to the bedstead. He pulled his covers up to his chest and curled up on his side as his father extinguished the lights, allowed Nagini back inside and shut the door.

 

* * *

  

Bellatrix and Narcissa sipped their tea in the parlour as not to disturb their husbands and the others while they went over business in his den next door. “I must again give thanks for allowing me to oversee the decorations for Harry’s birthday party. You know how troublesome they can be,” the pretty blond said, trying to divert her attention back to the conversation. Her sister’s worried expression hadn’t changed since she’d arrived. “Bella, dear, are you all right?” 

“No,” she murmured, dazed, watching the stairs. “There won’t be a party, Tom forbids it now. Besides, Harry hasn’t left his room in days. I’m really worried about him but he won’t let me come in. I punished him, you see, and I…I went too far.” 

“Oh gods, woman, not again…” Narcissa sighed and looked away. “What did you do to him this time? Is he all right?” 

“No, he’s not alright.” She sobbed. “I damn near killed him, he almost died. Maybe he technically did die, I’m not sure. He stopped breathing at some point, just fell over and stopped moving, so I checked his heart and it wasn’t beating and I panicked and Tom burst through the door and tried to revive him because he couldn’t sense him through that scar he gave him anymore.” 

Narcissa nearly vomited. Her pale skin turned pink. “He won’t be able to fully recover or grow up normally if you keep hurting him like that. What if he can’t be revived next time?” She put a hand to her neck, feeling the heat of her shock warm her skin. She could hardly imagine how someone could do something so horrible to an innocent child when she, herself still felt guilt over brushing Draco’s hair a bit too hard once when he was three. She looked back at her sister shaking her head in disbelief. “Do you both want him dead or permanently damaged on purpose? What in the world did he do to deserve such horrible punishment?” 

“You know, he’s been hiding things from us, so Tom gave him truth serum and found out he and your son had been snogging in every room of your great home over the last two weeks, I just- Tom was beside himself. I’ve never seen him so angry with Harry before. But that’s not why I hurt him. And then Greyback, he’s been sacked from Hogwarts and Tom cursed him silly and ripped the fangs right out of his mouth, well he wrote me this awful letter, threatening to turn Harry into one of his kind…but even then that’s not why, Cissy. That’s not why I hurt him.” She wrung her hands together, looking very distressed. The vestiges of her sanity faded in and out through her words and actions. “They were snogging like Paddy and Prongs. We fear they’ll turn out like them.” 

“Oh, that is absolutely ridiculous.” Narcissa waved a hand in indifference. “You, Andromeda and me used to kiss all the time when we were children. Hell, we snogged Paddy and Prongs that one time when they locked us in that dark cupboard with them, and you even let-What?” She gestured for her older sister to continue, seeing her reminder had no effect on her worry.

Bellatrix threw her hands up in defeat. “I’m not finished, Cissy. So he revives Harry and heals him up, gives him love and attention…makes him all better. But Harry’s no fool. I think he knows. He understands more than he lets on.” 

“You’re making no sense. Learn to control yourself or you’ll be putting him in the ground before he graduates from school.” She stood up, unable to sit and listen to her sister blubber about her own actions. “I should go. I’ve got to pack all of Draco’s things for school. I’ll see you soon.” Before she left she grabbed her older sister’s arm and dug her fingernails deep into the flesh. “Send the boy to my house next time. I’ll watch him. Tell your husband I can dole out his punishments if you cannot control yourself.” 

Bellatrix grabbed her skirt. “You must listen to me!” she whispered, clutching onto her in desperation. “When I said I couldn’t stop, it’s because I was cursed. I just know he used an Unforgivable on me to make me hurt him. He made me do it, Cissy, I didn’t want to!” 

Narcissa jerked away but stood by her sister in shocked confusion. “You’re delusional, Bella, no one would do that. He loves that child.” Her heart swelled with pity for her, she was quite mad anymore. “You’ve always had a problem with keeping your temper in check. You lost control and made up an excuse to make yourself feel better. I think you should see another medi-witch about these episodes you’ve been having. You look so peaked anymore, you’re rail thin. Please, dear, go see someone.” 

Bellatrix wiped her eyes and nodded. “Oh, yeah, alright. I was so sure. I never thought I could hurt him as badly as I did…I do love him, Narcissa. I really do. I feel so horrible about it. I wish I were dead.” 

“Next time you feel this coming on send Harry to my house,” she reminded her, and left the room. 

 

* * *

  

Lord Voldemort made his journey up the rounded staircase holding the banister with one hand, with a martini and a cigarette in the other. He walked over to his son’s room and knocked on the door. “Come in,” Harry said a teeny voice, barely audible through the oak enclosure. He entered, surveying the room and seeing Nagini slither out past him before stepping foot inside. He spotted Harry curled up in his bed, as he had been for nearly a week. The handsome man made a loud noise in his throat to get his attention. 

The boy squirmed around a bit but did not face him. He kept his back to the door, unable to look at anyone directly in the eye…especially him. His mother was right: he was no fool. 

“Don’t tell me you’re still brooding,” the lord said, letting his lip curl up in a sneer. 

“No,” he lied. 

“You’d better be getting ready. You leave for Kings Cross in less than four hours. You still want to go to school, don’t you?” 

“King’s Cross?” Harry gasped and sat up. “You’re not taking me to school? I have to ride on the train?” 

“I’ve got things to do, leaving in a moment.” Voldemort leaned up against the bedpost, twirling his pitted olive around in the glass with his finger. “If you insist on staying in bed another second, you’ll force me to drag you out of it and bathe you myself. I would miss several appointments, and that would make me extremely irritable. Is that what you want?” His voice was venomous, startling the boy into action. 

“No, sir.” 

“Then what are you waiting on? Get up.” 

Looking quite dishevelled, Harry crawled out of bed. He padded across the room holding his nightshirt down to cover his bare thighs as he passed him. No eye contact was made, but a sense of betrayal filled the air. 

“You need a haircut,” Tom commented, curling his lip again as he watched the boy open his wardrobe. “You look like your father. He never had any sense to keep his hair tidy either.” 

“Right, I’ll get it cut.” 

Voldemort walked past the small boy and stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray on the table. He frowned, seeing three martini glasses sitting there, left from his visit two nights before. “Why hasn’t your room been cleaned yet?” he hissed. “What has your mother been doing over the last few days?” 

Harry pulled out a pair of trousers and tossed them on the bed behind him. He tried to relax, knowing if he spoke too harshly he would be punished again. “I didn’t want anyone in here. I was tired.” 

“Get a house-elf up here and get this mess taken care of. You should be ashamed,” he said. He tensed up as Harry’s mood shifted against him to disregard his anger, sorting through his clothing as if he were in a trance. 

“It’s not my mess,” he whispered, feeling frozen in time. Everything around him buzzed. There was no happiness left in the world. 

Voldemort looked over the fading black and blue marks littering the backs of Harry's thighs and the fingerprints on his throat. He must have missed them in the dark. He pulled the child away from the wardrobe and shoved him onto the bed. With his wand, he healed the remainder of the abuse. “You do understand that when you’re being punished it’s only because you’ve earned it, right?" 

“Yes, sir,” he replied without looking at him. He went limp while his father pulled his shirt up and flipped him around to check for any remaining marks. 

“Your mother loves you very much. She hates to have to harm you. You shouldn’t cause her these troubles, Harry. Do as you’re told, never disobey me again.” He cupped his face, hovering above him. “You think you can do that?” 

Harry nodded. “Right, I’ll become perfect, just like you.” 

The Dark Lord smiled as he leaned in, the sarcasm having gone right over his head. “That’s what I want to hear, baby. Just like me.”

 

* * *

  

September, 1992 

Staring up at the newly assigned Head of Slytherin House, Harry and Draco blinked. The handsome young man gave off a quick wave to the tables and sat back in his seat. Regulus Black looked similar to his brother, Sirius, and it unnerved Harry to no end. His father had removed Fenrir Greyback and replaced him with someone near as dangerous without even knowing it. “Gods, it’s like the bastard wants me to be murdered.” 

“This guy’s a Death Eater,” Draco whispered in Harry’s ear. “I saw him at the meeting they held at my house. He’s supposed to be very clever with potions. They’ll probably make him teach it.” 

“How do you know so much?” Harry pursed his lips. “You lie all the time. I’ll bet you’ve never seen him before.” 

“I did! You can ask him yourself.” 

“Maybe I will.” 

“Fine.” 

“So, he’s a Death Eater.” Harry wasn’t sure what being a Death Eater meant, his father would not tell him. And he refused to ask Draco, he’d just lie. “He works for Tom and he works here?” 

“Mhm. He must be okay if he put him here.” 

Harry tried to let his worry ebb away. “Yeah,” he said, “You’re probably right.” 

 

* * *

  

Donning their new Quidditch robes, looking the other over, Harry and Draco stood among the rest of the team. Nimbus 2001 brooms in hand, they waited for the gates to open. Harry, being the new seeker and Draco a keeper, were thrilled to be able to play at all. Everyone suspected their fathers' bribed their way into allowing them to join, but the two boys did not care. 

“Good luck,” he whispered into Draco’s ear. “I’m so bloody nervous.” 

“You, too!” Draco rubbed against him and smiled. “Good luck.” 

As the game commenced, it became obvious that Harry was a natural to anyone who was watching. He was on the heels of the winged orb the instant it appeared. At that moment, any doubts about how he got on the team were forgotten. Draco showed great skill, as well. Both boys’ first appearance was met with bellowing cheers from the Slytherin section in the stands. 

“..And Harry Riddle sees the snitch! The little Emperor’s boy takes off with McLaggen hot on his tail!” 

“Don’t call me that!” Harry shouted, but the words were lost in the roar. Cormac McLaggen drove up to his side, sneering and cussing to pass. He was enormous boy, so large that he blotted out the sun as he came up beside the Slytherin Seeker. 

“Eh, Riddle, your father pay off the snitch to come to you, too?” 

“Get fucked, McLaggen!” 

“Such a naughty mouth you have! I’ll make sure to wash it out later after we win, you little bitch!” he shouted back, and kicked out at him to knock Harry off balance. He avoided it, and they both rose high up into the clouds. The crowd stood still holding its breath. After several long, gruelling minutes Harry emerged with a glittering ball trapped in his hand. 

The victory was delicious. Easily catching the snitch, Harry landed safely and raised the golden ball above his head for all to see. Cormac McLaggen was nowhere to be found. The entire team surrounded him basking in the round of cheers and applause, carrying him off to the castle for a much needed celebration.

 

* * *

  

“You’re a natural, just like your father.” Regulus had slipped into the room unnoticed, catching Harry alone at just the right moment. His deep-set grey eyes flickered with curio. “He was a good friend of my brother’s, you know, the man that they say murdered him.” 

Harry was dumbstruck. His eyes searched hard and wide for any signs of Draco to come rescue him. With his path cut off, trapped between the common room and the dorm hall, he had nowhere to go. “He did murder him, sir. I saw it. He was a pig who deserved everything he got coming to him.” 

Regulus chuckled. “You look nervous, Harry. You don’t have to worry, I’m nothing like him. I’m very loyal to your father.” 

Somehow, Harry doubted that. Something about his eyes, his walk, and his whole mannerism turned his stomach. In some small way he missed Greyback, no matter how frightening he was. “Can I go now?” 

“Sure.” Regulus backed up, allowing the boy to pass. He watched him as he ran off, his expression souring. 

* * *

 

 The darkened dorm room was somewhat quiet. Loud snoring covered most of the whispers coming from Draco’s bed. The green velvet curtains were pulled closed. Moony fell to the floor. 

_“Did you like that?”_

_“Where did you learn to do that?”_

_“Did you like it or not?”_

_“Yeah, it was really nice.”_

_“Really nice? That’s it? Here, do me now.”_

_“What do I do?”_

_“Give me your- yeah, like that.”_

Regulus walked over to the bed holding an ancient looking book in his hand. The cover was marked with runes, symbols and patterns of snakes trailed along the frayed pages. The book had been sent through owl post to Harry, but the Head of the House had redirected all owl post from the boy to him. 

This was the book of Slytherin. This book would most certainly contain the location of the Chamber of Secrets. 

Lord Voldemort had not been clever enough to deliver it himself, always finding a matter that needed attending to whenever he awoke. He had so hoped that a reopening of the chamber might frighten enough parents of Muggle-born children to remove them, thus creating a hindrance to the Order of the Phoenix. 

Not yet, at least. 

The words were in a language unknown to Black. No spell would reveal or decipher it. A blueprint inside led him to the entrance to the chamber, which happened to be located on the second floor. Somewhere, within the abandoned girl’s bathroom the entrance could be opened, but only a Parselmouth would have the power to do this. 

Pulling back a curtain and peeking inside, Regulus had to throw a hand up to his mouth to stop him from shouting. He backed up, clutching onto the book. Such disrespect…It was what James had done to Sirius, no matter what Sirius had said. This blatant act of homosexuality his brother had been cursed with did not seem as isolated as he had thought. 

But no, he would not speak of it. He had been quite lenient with the boy as of yet, and would continue to be so. Even when they found Cormac McLaggen trapped on the highest tower point of the castle hanging from his breeches, he let it slide. A trust needed to be formed, and at this point it was all but nonexistent. As quiet as he came, Regulus backed out of the room and closed the door. 

Harry flopped back on the bed and wiped off his tongue with a sheet. “I’m never doing that again,” he grumbled. “Where’s Moony?” 

Draco curled up beside him and giggled. “Oh yes you will, whenever I want.” 

“You don’t own me. Shut up.” 

“I thought you were mine!” 

“Shut up, where’s my Moony?” 

“Harry…I love you.” 

“Oh, stupid, come here. I love you too.” 

 

* * *

  

Most of the winter months had gone splendidly. Only a few isolated incidents had caused either boy much trouble. Harry had fewer detentions all year than he had during the first month the year before. But all of that came to an abrupt end. His luck had run out, his still-underdeveloped control over his temper had gotten the better of him at the worst possible moment and he’d hurt someone. 

Harry sat outside of the headmaster’s office with his head resting on his fists. His father was inside shouting. He knew he was in serious trouble and prayed the door would never open. 

But it did, and Lord Voldemort jerked his thumb back into the room. His face was twisted with anger. “~ _Get your arse in here, boy_.~” he hissed. 

Severus Snape stood on the opposite side of his desk drumming his fingers over the wooden grain. His beetle-black eyes were mere slits. He trembled with anger as the angelic-looking boy entered the room. “Do you know what you’ve done, Mr Riddle?”

Harry squeezed past Voldemort and stood in front of the desk with his hands behind his back to face Snape. “Yes, sir,” he murmured under his breath. 

“Do you have any idea how serious this is? You have put a boy in the hospital…he may not recover. His parents are demanding your removal, and I have no choice in the matter. You’re being expelled.” 

Harry gasped, his eyes widened. “But he used it, too!” 

Snape thumped his fist on the desk. “Who taught you that spell? Your father certainly denies giving you any knowledge of it…Who taught you the Cruciatus Curse?” 

Harry felt the heat of his father behind him. 

“Answer the man!” Voldemort growled, giving the boy a hard nudge to the back of his head. 

“I don’t remember…” His scar flared up in pain. He wanted to rub it, but Voldemort had wrapped his fingers around his wrists, holding them tight behind his back to prevent that. 

“You cannot lie to me. Tell me who gave you the curse.” Snape came around his desk and sat on the edge in front of the boy. “Was it Malfoy?” 

“No. It was Flint. I promised not to tell.” 

Snape looked up at the emperor and nodded. He returned his glare to the boy, shaking his finger at him. “If you are ever allowed to return to my school, all privileges will be revoked indefinitely. No Quidditch, no going outside, no fun. This is entirely up to your father, of course.” 

“Ow, ow, ow…” His scar seared white-hot. He struggled to stay standing. “Yes, sir, I’m so sorry, sir. I will never use that curse again, I promise.” 

“You’re goddamn right you won’t. I have half a mind to snap your wand in two-Stand up straight!” Voldemort wrenched Harry's wrists up behind his back, giving him another jolt of unexpected pain. Snape seemed to care little about that, his position had been threatened and he needed to remove the problem before anything critical happened. 

The injured boy, Percy Weasley, had taken the Unforgivable curse full on, and Harry’s untrained power allowed it to fester and grow. Percy’s mind had been scrambled, and the medi-witch treating him was unsure whether he’d ever recover. His father, the current leader of the Order of the Phoenix, had taken this attack very personally, calling on severe discipline and removal of Harry from the school. 

“Go gather your things. Meet me at the gates.” Lord Voldemort released Harry and backed up a step, turning on Snape. “And you…you find a way to fix this fucking mess before I use the curse on the whole staff. Honestly, do you not watch these children at all?” 

“Why don’t you speak to his Head of the House about this? I cannot watch over three hundred children at once.” 

“I will train him myself. We don’t need your fucking school, and you certainly don’t need my fucking money. Find someone else to fund this mess of a place. Let the Order pay for it.” 

“My Lord, please.” 

* * *

 

Harry ran as fast as he could, hearing the lingering shouting of his father and Snape echo through the halls. 

“Draco…” 

Sitting on a sofa in the common room next to Pansy Parkinson, Draco sat up and away from the girl as Harry entered the room. “What’s wrong? Did you get into trouble?” 

“I’m expelled.” Harry nearly threw himself on the floor but managed to keep most of his frustration in check. His chin quivered without control; threatening to up heave the damn-good-cry he so wanted to have. “I’m going home. I have to pack.” 

“ _No!”_ He shoved Pansy’s arm away and leapt from the sofa to chase after him. “Please tell me this isn’t true! I’m so sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean to get you into trouble!” 

Harry was bent over his trunk to empty it out. “Well, it is, and you did. Just stop. I’m not taking the blame for you ever again. They bloody well think I tortured those animals and I did this to Weasley out of anger, when you attacked him first for no reason and he got the better of you. Why do I always cover up for you anyway? Your parents don’t even hurt you!” He pushed Draco hand’s off of him and continued to pack his belongings into his bag. “I don’t know when I’ll see you again. I doubt he’ll let me visit for a long time. I’m in so much trouble. He might even kill me...I just don’t know.” 

Draco was all over him; clutching his chest, lips against his throat. “I’ll have my mother talk to him! They can’t keep us apart! Please kiss me before you go or I’ll die!” 

Harry closed his bag and stood up, ignoring his request. Everything he did, every single move he made had been for Draco. No more would he listen to him. “You won’t die, you’ll be fine.” 

He stepped out into the common room and waved his good byes, and set out one last time to the front of the castle hoping that someday he might be allowed to return.  

* * *

  

July, 1996 

As if it were the first time in his life, Harry Riddle opened the front door of the great manor and looked out at the world. He crept, closing the door behind him and sat on the French stoop, watching the wind blow through the thick vines of ivy shading the front of the home. Nearly sixteen, his pretty face remained untouched. He was the spitting image of his dead father; the striking shade of his mother’s eyes, jutting tufts of ebony hair and a few inches in height would have been the only differences between them. He was not as tall or well built. It was as if living deep inside the house had stunted his growth. Still, there was time left for that yet, as Bellatrix had told him over and over. 

Sitting on top of a hill, overlooking the small village now chock full of wizards and witches, Riddle House had been restored to its former glory…and then some. No one knew how solemn the handsome boy living inside was. He was the glorified son of the emperor; his life should have been as close to perfect as perfect could be. 

Another day and his birthday would arrive, but again there would be no celebration. He had no friends, he had no life. His only comforts came from books in the library, his letters and scant instances of sanity his mother incurred. Besides that, it was all business. Training spells and potions, learning everything of the past he needed to know. His mother educated him when his father was away. It was boring, tiresome work, leaving little free time to think. But he was ready. He had become a very powerful user of dark arts. 

A snowy owl landed at his side and pecked his arm. She was by far the best gift his father had ever given him. “Thanks, Hedwig,” he said, removing the letter from its thong and patting her head. He knew who it was from without looking, as they always came on this day. Draco’s strawberry scented parchment filled his weekends with happiness whenever they arrived. They were always jam-packed with lovely adventures of lust and sex, torture and debauchery. 

Missing the last three terms at school had been difficult, to say the least. But, at last, begging and pleading had finally gotten him somewhere. His father’s work took up most of his spare time, and Bellatrix’s madness was only causing more trouble than anything else. Lord Voldemort agreed to let Harry return to Hogwarts for his sixth year. 

Having seen Draco less than a handful of times during his absence, and it had been a solid year since seeing him last, he trembled to think about meeting up with his best friend once again. 

“What are you doing!? He could be out there, Harry!” Bellatrix’s twisted face bent in front of him. Her eyes were nearly devoid of life. “Get in the fucking house right now!” Grasping his upper arm, she tugged on it with all of her might. “Fucking get up. Up, up, up!” 

“I’ll be right in, okay? He’s not out here, mum.” Harry folded his letter up and stuffed it in the waistband of his shorts. “Besides, the house is warded and hidden.” 

“You don’t know that he hasn’t found a way to get at you. Animagis have special powers. He’s always watching you. He’s always trying to get in.” Her eyes centred on a small tear on a screen-covering of one of the windows. She gasped. Her fingers threaded through her son’s hair, jerking his head in its direction. “See? Do you see it? He’s been here…scratching and clawing. Like Greyback, just like Greyback.” 

Harry stood up and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back inside. “I’m sure a doxy made that hole. Come on. He’s not here, I promise.” Her obsession with Sirius Black had stayed fresh in her mind when all else shifted. Since his escape from Azkaban in 1993, she spoke about him night and day, and it troubled him to watch her rock her self in her chair and weep. 

“Oh, Harry.” she patted his arm and walked to the kitchen to put on a kettle for tea. “He’ll get you. He’ll always want you…so powerful, so hell-bent on revenge.” 

He sat down at the dining table and propped his bare feet up on the chair beside him to read the letter. His eyes narrowed. “Oh gods…he’s gone and got that Parkinson bint pregnant. Ugh, she’s so hideous, mum. Narcissa means to skin him alive. I can’t believe it.” He wanted to be less jealous. The crush he had had on Draco somewhat faded over time, and yet clung to his heart like a vice. Draco had shagged practically everyone in Hogwarts and the painful readings always thumped heavily against his heart. 

Bellatrix set his teacup in front of him and pushed his feet off the chair so she could sit down. “He’s filth. Cissy will make the girl get an abortion. That awful boy has never been anything but trouble for her.” She glared at the letter as if it were Draco himself. “Don’t you dare go and get anyone pregnant when you return. Your father will crush you.” 

Harry chuckled as he folded the letter up and tossed it on the table. “You don’t have any worries there. I don’t particularly like girls all that much.” He winked at Bellatrix and sipped at his tea. 

“Oh, baby, you’re going to have to marry eventually. I need grandchildren, loads and loads of them. You simply must pass on those eyes to another generation.” Her evasion of his statement was always the same. He’d grow out of it. He hadn’t been exposed to any other women except her during his isolation…It didn’t matter; he knew that she loved him regardless. 

“I’ll think about that when I’ve grown up. I’m not even sixteen yet for pities sake.” 

“Oh, but you will be tomorrow!” Her expression lit up. “Your father has taken the whole day off to escort us to Diagon Alley. We’ve got to get you fitted for your uniform and purchase all those books and ingredients on that list. I’m so excited.” 

Harry had to admit his shared enthusiasm. Lord Voldemort rarely took them anywhere that didn’t include an amphitheatre or media when dealing with his work. This would be a day where they would spend it together…as a family. That, and he was going to see Draco. 

He patted his mother’s arm. “What are you going to wear?” 

She wrung her bony hands together. “I haven’t a clue.” 

“Come on, darling,” he said, helping her stand. “Let’s go pick something lovely out.”


	8. Their Dark Little Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After spending Harry's birthday together as a family, the Riddles turn in for the night, only Lord Voldemort has no plans to sleep. The discovery of his and his son's dark little secret will flip their world upside down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dark chapter ahead, nothing graphic, mostly implied badness.

Lord Voldemort walked arm in arm with Bellatrix, nodding at passersby and feigning cheerfulness whenever a flashbulb popped. Dressed handsomely, he and his brood looked very much the part of a loving family as the strolled along the alley. Bellatrix laced her fingers with Harry’s, keeping him as close to her as possible.

They spent the afternoon window shopping, stopping in various places to gather materials for Harry’s return to school. The Malfoys were supposed to be around somewhere, Harry could not keep his eyes straight whenever he thought about it. “Are you sure they said today? You’re positive? And Draco’s coming? Are you absolutely sure, mummy?”

Bellatrix sighed. “I’m positive, baby. Now relax, you’re upsetting Tom.”

Harry looked up at Voldemort and made a funny face. “Am I upsetting you, Tom?” he said, mimicking his mother well enough to elicit a hearty chuckle from the man.

“I’m having a wonderful time. Let’s get some tea. Hmm, and perhaps lunch. I don’t think we’ve stopped- Oh, for god’s sake.” Voldemort sighed and came to a halt as a horde of Weasleys approached from the opposite end of the walkway. Harry cringed, hoping he’d never have to lay eyes on another one of them again in his life. Bellatrix growled under her breath as her hand tightened around her son’s wrist.

“Good day, Emperor.” Molly and Arthur’s once pleasant faces hung in indifference as they greeted them. Ron and Ginny stood behind them, both glaring daggers at Harry. Harry bit his tongue to halt the malicious grin that crept up on his lips.

“Good afternoon, Mr and Mrs Weasley.” The three Death Eaters trailing behind stepped up and encircled the Riddles, all had their wands drawn and to their sides. “How is Percy? I heard his medications were improving his memory.”

Molly held her hand up to her mouth and her eyes welled up with tears.

“He has improved a great deal, thank you for asking,” Arthur replied. Harry opened his mouth wanting to say something nasty, but Bellatrix squeezed his wrist harder to shut him up.

“If there is anything I can do…I hope the funds I’ve provided have covered the cost of his stay at St. Mungo’s. Please let me know if anything else is needed. Good day, Mr and Mrs Weasley.” They nodded to each other and Voldemort stepped aside to allow them passage.

Ron drew his finger across his neck. Ginny mimed hanging from a noose as Harry glared back at them. “You are so fucking dead,” Ron mouthed.

“Sod the both of you,” he mouthed back, wild-eyed and growling as his mother dragged him off into the street. Fortunately, they were the only two Weasley’s left in Hogwarts. He could handle them.

“You stay away from those blood-traitors at school, do you understand me? Stay far away,” Voldemort warned him, watching them pass by and disappear into Flourish and Blotts. He took Harry’s hand from Bellatrix and looked back at his security, giving a quick nod. Two of the three turned around and walked to the book shop. He looked down at his watch. “Have we gotten everything on the list?”

Bellatrix unravelled the parchment from her handbag and looked it over. Harry felt a swell of panic flood over him. “We’re leaving? But I haven’t seen Draco yet!”

“Yes, we’ve gotten everything. Must we go now?” Bellatrix rested her hands on Harry’s shoulders, and winced under the glare of her husband.

“But, but, but…”

Voldemort tipped his head at Harry. “Don’t fret. I’ll allow a visit soon if you’re a good boy. How’s that sound?”

“Tomorrow?” blurted Harry, looking very hopeful.

“We’ll see, Harry.” With a smile, Lord Voldemort pulled his family along to continue their walk towards Knockturn Alley. “Come on, I’m starving.” 

* * *

 “Today was divine, simply divine.” Bellatrix snapped her fingers, signalling to the house elves that dinner was over. Her thick, grey hair began uncoiling from her bun. Her makeup had smudged around her eyes and yet, to Harry, she had never looked lovelier. The sweetest smile played on her lips and she hugged him around the shoulders before departing to her room. “I hope your birthday was wonderful, baby.”

“It was. Good night, mum,” he said, patting her hand. He watched her walk to the staircase to retire to the nursery, the only place she was allowed to sleep anymore. His eyes shifted back to Voldemort as she left the room. He smiled and held up the small gift he’d been given. It was a diary. “I don’t understand why you want me to give it away if it’s my gift.”

“It’s magical, Harry. When it matures it’ll find you, you’ll understand then. Just do what I told you to do with it, try not to lose it like the Slytherin book.” He swallowed down the last of his whiskey and set his glass on the table. “C’mon, let’s get to bed.” His head swam with inebriation. Harry helped him stand up and draped the man’s arm around his shoulders for support.

“You’re pissed,” he commented, frowning at the heavy scent of alcohol coming off of his breath. He dropped Voldemort on the bed and closed the door before removing his clothing, setting it in a neat pile on the vanity chair. He got the the end and slipped off his father’s shoes.

“Help me with my trousers…can’t sit up,” Voldemort murmured, pretending he was far too gone to get them off himself. He nibbled on his lip as he watched the gorgeous boy bend over him to unbuckle his belt.

Harry shifted his glance and his breath quickened its pace as he slid the trousers down is legs. His father’s obvious erection tented his shorts. “Oh fuck…” he whispered under his breath, knowing the man would not be satisfied with a simple ‘good night’.

“Come here, love.” Voldemort held Moony up and jiggled him about as a taunt. “Come and lie down.”

Wishing he’d left his clothes on; Harry snatched Moony, slipped under the sheets and rolled onto his side away from his father. It was worth trying at least, perhaps the drunken man might be too tired to react. “Good night.” A chortle caught his attention, his eyes snapped back open. His father’s breath cascaded over his shoulder and into his face.

Harry shifted onto his back and looked at him. “Something on your mind?”

Voldemort swept the hair from his eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”

Harry laughed. “Seeing as we look quite similar, I think that’s being a bit pretentious. Now go to bed, Tom, you’re wasted.” He tried to shift back to his side, but a hand pressed his shoulder down and held him in place. He pushed it away. “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

“Do you want me to give up?” Like a tiger he crouched, getting on all fours to straddle the boy. His thigh pressed in between Harry’s legs, giving his son a jolt of raw pleasure.

“I…It’s my birthday, Tom, and I’m a little tired.” Harry sighed as Voldemort leaned in, moulding his hand to the nape of his neck and sipping the delicate skin of his throat. His hands bunched the sheets as he lie still beneath him, hoping Voldemort might black out before it went too far again.

The dark Lord sat up and cupped the boy’s face under his palm. “You know you’re the only thing on Earth I have ever loved...but if you don’t want this, I can go wake your mother instead.”

“No!” he whispered. He knew he mustn’t ever allow his father to get close to her again. He wrapped his legs around his thighs, struggling to keep him on the bed the moment be began to climb off. “Of course I want this. C’mon, daddy, stay here, please.”

Voldemort sat up on his knees, smirking down at him. “Then get up and kiss me back.”

Harry nodded. “Yes, sir. I do want this, sir, I do.”

“That’s my baby.”

Harry propped himself up on his hands, meeting Voldemort’s engaging lips. He pushed all other thoughts aside and melted into his arms. A soft moan purred in his throat at the intrusion of his father’s tongue sweeping back against his. The man was so masculine and powerful, so hard to deny. He shivered, feeling his large hands pressed flat to his bare back and neck to hold him up.

The dirty misdeed of his sudden compliance drifted from his mind. No one would ever know. It kept his father from harming his mother, and it kept him from going mad with jealousy and loneliness. The strong hands lifted him, cradled him, took the frustration of isolation and gave him a peace he could not reach on his own. It was an honour to garner such fondness from the coldest man on Earth, to know that he loved only him.

Tom pulled him into his lap, sitting him over his thighs on the side of the bed. He locked his ankles around Harry’s to hold him still. His lips trailed kisses from his shoulder to the line of his jaw. Warm breath tickled his flesh. Harry relaxed in his embrace, letting his hands fall to his sides. He lolled his head back against Voldemort’s shoulder, lost in a daze. His mind played over depraved thoughts he couldn’t help but think of, like letters from his cousin spinning tales of lurid sex. Draco and Pansy’s disguised act of fucking on the common room settee, with her positioned on his lap, her skirt fanned out over to veil it. Crabbe and Goyle sitting on either side of them, oblivious to their actions. Harry dug his fingernails into Tom’s thighs, trembling as his lips continued to trail along his throat. Draco might have a slew of boys and girls to play with, but he’d never have this.

Voldemort took his time, waiting for Harry to show the response he was looking for. With enough manipulation, the boy reacted in his embrace within a matter of minutes. His teeth scraped over his shoulder, nipping, tasting and biting the moist flesh. “Ow, that hurts,” Harry hissed. He smacked his thigh with the palm of his fist.“Be nice to me.”

Long fingers slid the waistband of his knickers down over his hips. A dark laugh brushed past Harry’s ear. “Oh, come on, I thought you’d like it rough. What about you and that Malfoy boy? I saw your dreams last night. You can’t hide anything from me.”

“None of your business,” he said through a groan, relenting to Voldemort’s caresses between his thighs. “Just don’t…talk about Draco when…Oh, gods, daddy…Don’t stop doing that...”

“Always my business when it comes to you,” he whispered in his ear, running his tongue up along the shell. He nudged it inside, dipping the tip of it into the canal.

Harry shivered, sitting in his father’s lap as Pansy had in Draco’s, bucking up to meet the force of his hand and squirming back against his father’s unrelenting manhood. He hardly noticed the light from the hallway penetrate the room or the small voice calling his name.

“I’d nearly forgotten I’d put this one away special. Are you…decent?”

Harry’s eyes opened in disbelief and closed in shame. He gasped, horror-struck. “Oh gods, no, mummy, please don’t see me…”

Bellatrix stood frozen in the doorway holding a gift wrapped box in her fragile hand. The present slipped from her fingers as her face twisted in disbelief. A tormented shriek filled the quiet. “What are you…what have you done to my child? You sonuvabitch-I’ll murder you!” She ran screaming, slamming the door behind her.

Lord Voldemort roared with laughter and threw Harry on the bed. He reached out, groping around for his wand as he stood up.

Harry clutched his wrist to stop him, desperate. “No, please, Tom!”

“I have to stop her.” His eyes filled with blood. “She’s gone to get her wand- _~LET GO OF ME!~_ ”

No matter how frightened he was of him, Harry refused to let go. “Don’t do this! Don’t hurt her!”

The pounding of footsteps grew louder outside. Voldemort yanked his arm free and thrust it at the door. The moment it opened, Bellatrix saw the beam of red light hit her square in the chest. She plummeted to the ground in a heap.

Harry screamed. Before he could move to help her, he was shoved back against the bed and pinned down under his father’s weight.

Voldemort stuffed Moony into the boy’s mouth to muffle his cries for mercy. “Did you honestly believe either of you were a match for me?” He leaned in close, letting him see the red in his eyes, the blood that pooled into them when he craved death. “How dare you try and let her curse me.” And for several minutes the lord stayed there on top of him, riding out his son’s panic. He gripped his wand and spoke, shushing the boy as he pulled the plush toy out of his mouth and threw it over his shoulder.

Harry sat up as much as possible to wrap his arms around Tom’s neck. “Stay here with me, I’ll do anything. Please don’t kill her, Tom. Please, she loves you. I love you.”

Tom tipped his head and pouted. “Don’t talk like that. Kill her...? I’d never do that, sweet heart, you need her too much. You stay here while I put her back to bed.” He peeled the boy’s arms away, feeling Harry's muscles tense up to hold on.

“You’re lying!” Harry was inconsolable. His ragged words pierced the room as he desperately held on to his father. “Everything you said was a lie - I can see it in your eyes!”

A wicked smile curled on the Dark Lord’s lips. He placed his son’s hands on his stomach and lifted his chin up to kiss him. “Yes, you’re absolutely right, I am lying.” A nonverbal body bind spell seized Harry’s movement. He was helpless, forced to witness the horror of what was to come.

“Your skills are impressive, Harry. I can feel how frightened you are but I can’t see it. And now you can tell when I’m lying, amazing.” He looked down at his wife. “And this bitch…” He rubbed his chin while patting Harry’s thigh for comfort. “How to deal with this…It’ll be an accident…no, suicide. Yeah, she’s completely unstable, no one would even question it. It was seeing those horrible Weasley people, it just sent her over the top. The last of her sanity flitted away. Damn, what a pity.” He turned to look down at Harry, shrugging. “How’s that sound? It’s good, yeah?”

He stood up and stretched his muscles. He dressed in his wrinkled clothing and tied his tie, taking his time as he watched Harry lie frozen beside him. He tossed him a wink, smirking as he leaned down to kiss him once more. Walking to the door, he grabbed up a handful of matted grey hair, yanking the unconscious woman’s head off the floor. “It’s so fucking easy to do this, you know. Like when I murdered your father and his parents. Just as easy as when I killed your first mother while she held you in her arms and begged me to spare you. So fucking easy. I’ll teach you how to do that someday.” He kicked the wrapped gift across the room. It disappeared under the wardrobe.

He tapped the side of his head with the tip of his wand, snickering. “Interesting choice of words to call me, you naughty little lad. Did your boyfriend teach those to you?” He pulled Bellatrix out of the room but stopped to look back at Harry once more. “Oh, and when I return, I’m going to adjust your memory so you’ll hardly remember this useless bitch at all, then we’ll resume what we were doing before she barged in and interrupted us; because I get so fucking hot after murder. I’ll try to make this quick, say good bye to mummy, Harry.” 

* * *

A laurel wreath rustled each time the large front doors to Riddle House would open or close. Flowers of every breed and colour, as well as a thousand floating candles, filled the entryway, creating a path to the wake. The parlour of the manor had been fashioned into a viewing room. The heavy curtains were drawn closed, all clocks were stopped at 7:14 and every mirror was covered with white sheets. Wiggy hunched over the organ and was playing a song by Chopin.

A small hand clothed in pink leather patted Harry’s shoulder. “Horrible thing,” she said. “Simply horrible. Only weeds will grow on her grave, I suspect, as wicked as she was. I’ve never met a stronger woman.” She grabbed a handful of funeral biscuits and shoved them into her carpetbag purse the instant Harry turned to look at the solid white coffin.

“She’ll be put in the mausoleum, ma'am.”

“That dinner was amazing. I’ve never had a better meal. Your father must be commended.” She belched under her hand. “And how are you doing, young man? It must be very hard to lose a mother at such an age.”

“Oh, I’m fine, thank you.” Harry smiled at the squat-looking woman as she patted his hand and offered her condolences. “Thank you for coming. I’ll see you later, Mrs Umbridge, I need to find someone.” He looked off, away from the mourners, past the casket and saw him. Standing in a small crowd of people looking as tall and pale as he ever had, Draco turned and met his eye. He hadn’t come with his parents. He had arrived late, missing the funeral and dinner. The striking blond pointed to the ceiling and mouthed the words ‘five minutes’, then turned back to his girlfriend’s attention as if nothing had happened.

Feeling uncomfortable in his black dinner suit while accepting consolation from everyone as they entered or before they left their home, Harry could not keep his eyes off of his watch. He bounced in place, eager to retreat up the stairs without his father’s notice and shag the hell out of the prettiest boy in the room.

“Oh, Harry, how are you hanging in there?” Narcissa hugged his shoulders and kissed his cheek. Lucius clapped him on the back and walked away, spotting several Death Eaters conjugating over by the bar. She leaned into him, flattening the jutting hair down on the crown of his head. “I noticed you hadn’t touched your dinner. Are you eating? Don't follow in Bella’s footsteps, it would crush me.”

Harry shrugged. “Guess I wasn’t hungry, Mrs Malfoy. I’m just glad she isn’t suffering anymore.”

Narcissa covered a sob with her handkerchief. “I’m going to go visit with her before I go. Take care, dear.”

Glancing back up at his watch, Harry growled. It hadn’t seemed to move at all.

“Have you met my son yet?” Lord Voldemort’s hand rested on the boy’s shoulder, ceasing the annoying bouncing he had resorted back to. “Harry, this is Peter Pettigrew. He’s the new Head of the House for Gryffindor.”

Harry faked a smile. “We’ve met. He was at my dad’s house the week he died.” His trained eyes caught the subtle wince. Pettigrew turned a scant shade of pink and walked away to clear his throat. He glanced up at his father, who also turned his head from him. “Something wrong, Mr Pettigrew?”

“No,” he said, turning back with toothy smile set in place. “I just miss him, that’s all. So, you’re headed back to Hogwarts? Your father finally gave in, eh?”

“Especially now,” Voldemort commented, glancing off to the closed casket. “I’ve no time for raising children, there’s so much work to be done.”

Harry caught sight of Draco ascending the rounded staircase. His once slicked back hair had grown long and swished behind him like strands of white silk. Harry shook with excitement. He looked back at his father and whispered into his ear. “Tom, can I please go upstairs for a moment? I’m dying here! I hate this!”

“But everyone’s about to leave. Couldn’t you wait a moment to say you’re- Oh, yes, go!” He’d started bouncing again and people were taking notice of his lack of empathy over his mother’s death.

Without hesitation, Harry bolted up the steps and looked around the darkened hallway. “Draco, where are you?”

A cool hand pulled his glasses away and rested over his eyes. “Did you miss me?”

Harry moulded into his form pressed against his back. “Yessss…”

Draco’s free arm cinched his waist as he dragged him backwards into an open bedroom. Closing the door, he spun Harry around to look him over. “Oh, Riddle, you’re bloody fucking gorgeous.” Before any other words formed, they embraced into a deep messy kiss. Harry groped out behind him and turned the lock on the knob.

As carelessly as they could manage, they pulled their clothing apart and hopped together with their slacks around their ankles toward the large bed in the corner of the room. Falling on his back with Draco on top of him, Harry nipped at his shoulder and wrapped his arms around his neck. “I’ve missed you so much, you fucking snitch.”

Draco smirked. “You seem all torn up about your mother…Merlin, you heartless git, isn’t this her bedroom?” He looked around for a moment and shrugged before returning his attention back to Harry’s lips. “We’ve got to make this fast. I told Pansy I was going to take a piss.”

“It is, remember? This is my old nursery. Hell, she still occupies it at night. Don’t you, mummy?” He was looking into the corner of the room and waved to the floating apparition staring blankly at the boys. Her skin was pearly white, transparent, with silver blood leaking from the wounds on her neck and wrists. Her dead eyes were solid black that showed no whites in them. Her once long, silky hair was matted, frizzy and more grey than dark. She wore chains that wrapped around her body taking shape of a full length dress that dragged on the floor. A punishment that she’d wear in penance for eternity for all of her evil doings in life.

“I haven’t a clue. Do I?” she asked him, her once booming voice torn, broken, and her lips sewn nearly shut with the vocal chords and strips of flesh she’d removed from her throat. “I thought I slept in the master bedroom.”

Draco shuttered, and Harry shooed her off for spoiling the moment. “Get out, we need to be alone.” Sobbing, she backed up and disappeared through the wall. “Gods, what a pest.”

“That’s disturbing.”

Harry snorted. “I know, isn’t this romantic, darling?”

Grinding their bodies, the words faded. Draco pressed Harry into the mattress, kissing him, gripping his hips. His stylistic manoeuvres thrilled the boy beneath him to pieces. He seemed so knowledgeable with pleasure. His hands were under him, with his lips on the pulse point of his neck. “Oh gods,” Draco whispered. “I want you so badly, Harry. I want to fuck you so bad right now.” The words sent shivers down his spine. Harry mewed at every touch, every sound, everything Draco did to him. This was heaven.

A persistent knocking at the door broke them apart. Both boys jumped off the bed. Harry yanked his trousers up and buttoned his shirt. “Yeah, yeah, who is it?”

“Is Draco in there? We need to leave.” Pansy’s voice irritated Harry to no end. “We’re going to be late for the film if we don’t leave right now.”

Harry slugged the other boy’s arm. “Why did you bring her?”

“I had to.” Draco rolled his eyes. “I’m coming, just getting something Harry’s promised to give me.” He turned, throwing the smaller boy against the wall, pressing him flat. His lips caressed the line of his throat. “I’ll see you next month. I can’t wait to feel your lips slurping on my dick again. These lips…are mine. Oh gods, you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

“Whenever you want, anything,” Harry promised, wincing at another loud rap. “He’s fucking coming, you ugly twat!”

“I wish!”

“Draco, get out here!”

Smoothing out his hair and clothes, Draco winked at Harry and opened the door. “Come on, Pansy, don’t be cross.” The old flare of jealousy exploded like a cherry bomb in Harry’s stomach. He glanced down at the girl’s swelling belly, knowing she was far past a few weeks pregnant. They were keeping the child. “You remember Harry, don’t you?”

Harry glared at her. Pansy blushed. “Yeah, I remember him. See you at school, Riddle.” Slamming the door as they walked away, he threw himself on his mother’s bed.

A half hour later the door opened. Lord Voldemort stepped inside and stood looming over him. “Everyone’s gone home. How are you, honey?”

“I’m fine.”

The emperor sat beside him, carding his fingers through his hair. “Are you sure?”

Harry reached out for his arm and brought his hand to his lips. He ran his tongue over each fingertip, enveloping his middle finger before drawing it from his mouth. He looked up into his father’s eyes. “I said I was fine. Get in bed with me, daddy.”

“That you are, baby,” he whispered back, dropping down on top of him. “That you are.” 

* * *

Severus Snape scoffed as he watched the throng of young witches gaping and following the boy from a distance. His title alone could get him any girl of his choosing. He walked by, arm in arm with Draco Malfoy, seemingly oblivious to the attention. Harry Riddle appeared nervous and excited to be back to the place he had grown to love, a place where anything was possible.

“Remember what I said long ago, Riddle.” Severus stepped in front of the entrance to the dungeons and looked down at the boy over his nose. “You will work very hard to repay me for the damage you’ve caused. That includes detentions every weekend. No Quidditch and no trips to Hogsmeade. Apparition training will be postponed until you are of age seventeen. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Harry shifted against Draco, who, in turn, nudged his ribs and snorted. “I remember very well and I’m prepared to repay you for the damage I’ve caused.”

“We get the picture, Snape. May we go now?” Draco and Severus held a governing stare over one another until the Headmaster leered and stepped aside. Tugging Harry along by the hand, they stepped into the dungeons corridor before bursting into hysterical laughter.

“Snape’s not so bad. Your father probably has him wrapped around his little finger. It’s the Weasleys you need to worry about.” Draco looked behind them, tossing a threatening glare at the few witches that had dared to follow them. “Ron’s been going on about getting you back over the last three years. It’s like he’s obsessed with getting you alone with him. He tells me all the time. Really sick stuff.”

“He doesn’t worry me. He’s pathetic,” Harry said in a low voice. “I’d worry more about your grandmother than a Weasley. You saw what happened to his brother Percy…”

Draco cringed. “Don’t be doing that again, understood? I don’t want to lose you.”

Harry draped his arm around Draco’s shoulders as they rounded the corner, giving him a squeeze. “Oh, you. Try not to snitch on me if I do and we’ll be fine.”


	9. Snuffles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starting the sixth year, Harry finds companionship with a mysterious dog his head of house claims to be his.

Regulus smiled at the boys as they entered the common room. “Welcome back, Mr Riddle, Mr Malfoy,” he said. “My, my, don’t you both look very much like your fathers anymore. How utterly shocking.”

“Off to put our things away, Black. We’ll see you in the Great Hall.” Draco yanked Harry away, feeling the ill ease spreading between them like thick blood. As they turned away the man pointed his wand at them, swishing it in a in a circle and whispering “ _Obliviate_!”. He was shocked to see Riddle turning on him, shoving Draco behind him the second before the spell went off. He had drawn his wand but was a hair too late and stumbled backward into Draco as the spell took hold of his mind. The Slytherin Head of House shoved his wand back in his robes and left the room, having successfully erased any knowledge the boy had about his brother being an Animagus, just as he had done with everyone else that had that knowledge in the house.

“What’s wrong?” Draco righted his cousin and cupped his face, seeing the other boy’s eyes lose focus behind his glasses. “What happened? Are you alright?”

Harry shook his head to clear it. “Oh, I got dizzy. Sorry, love.” He looked back behind him, finding the man gone and shrugged at Draco as they continued walking. “What does he know about my father? He probably helped his brother escape from Azkaban.”

Draco shoved him into their new dorm room and steered him over to his new bed. “Hush, he’s harmless. Stop making enemies before we’ve even settled in. I’d like this year to go a bit more smoothly than our second. You’re just a ball of nerves any more.”

Harry shoved his clothing into his trunk. He set his diary on top and closed the lid. “Sorry, you’re right. It just doesn’t feel the same, I suppose.”

Draco snuggled against his back, holding him at the waist. “It will. You and I have a lot to catch up on.”

“Well maybe I don’t want it to.” Harry turned around, facing Draco. “You got that bitch pregnant and she’s obviously keeping it. What about you and me?”

“It was an accident. What do you want from me? I can’t undo it, you know.” He cupped Harry’s face, looking into his eyes. “I can’t force her to get rid of it. Trust me, I’ve tried. Besides, I can’t marry you, can’t have babies with you. What if I never have another shot at this?”

Harry’s jaw dropped open. “So it wasn’t an accident…You’re always fucking lying.”

Draco laughed. “Honestly, it was. I’m just thinking positively, that’s all.”

The Heir of Slytherin dropped his head on his cousin’s chest. “Are you going to marry her?”

“Gods, no…No.” Draco made a face like he’d been poisoned. “And I’m not going to sleep with her again now that you’re back. I promise.”

Harry nuzzled into his warmth, feeling a great weight lift from his shoulders. “Good.”

Draco feathered several kisses on the top of his head. “Mmm, I’m so glad you’re here. Come on…let’s head down to the feast before we miss it.”

Realising how hungry he was, Harry agreed. He hadn’t noticed the very large black dog peering at him from behind one of the beds. 

* * *

Ronald and other Gryffindors watched the two Slytherins enter the candlelit hall. “Yeah, that’s him. Saw him in Diagon Alley last month. I heard he killed his mum, cut her all up and told the pet snake to finish her off.” He leaned up against Hermione and whispered in her ear. “He’ll be so sorry when I get through with him.”

Hermione looked Harry over from across the room. “Be careful, Ron, he’s most likely trained in duelling. I’ve read that Lord Voldemort has never lost a duel to anyone, not even close, and that he’s been schooling Harry himself over the last three years.”

“It won’t be a duel. I’ll catch him when he’s not expecting it.”

As if on cue, Harry and Draco sat down in their seats, crossed their arms over the table, leaned in and stared in Ron’s direction. Both had lopsided grins and arched eyebrows, and both began mouthing unkind words to him.

Ginny dug her fingernails into Ron’s thigh. “I so badly want to harm him,” she said through gnashed teeth.

Ron removed her clawed hand. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your chance.” 

* * *

Harry stood next to the heavy librarian’s desk waiting on Madam Pince to address him. She filed at her nails and blew on each finger, taking as much time as possible before looking back at him. The boy had only been back to school for less than a week, but his insistence on finding a lost book had become a serious burden on her.

“It wouldn’t matter if I let you back in, it still won’t be there,” she murmured, keeping her eyes low. “I have not even opened the gates to the Restricted Section since the start of term.”

Harry’s face turned an odd shade of red. “But it never arrived and my father used his own owl and it came back to him as delivered. Do you know how screwed I am if I don’t find this sodding book, woman?”

“Did you just call me ‘woman’?” Madam Pince stood up and thwacked her nail file on the desk. “You march your behind out of this library and get me permission from a teacher if you wish to return. Good bye, Mr Riddle!”

“If I find out you’ve taken the book…Just let me know if it turns up.” He turned on his heel and walked out, swearing under his breath. Running up along side of him in the corridor, the curious black dog of Slytherin nudged his shin. Harry looked down and grinned. “Oh, hullo, Snuffles, have you been waiting on me?”

They made their way back to the dungeons, sidestepping Snape and the other students in the main hall, using his invisibility cloak over the dog. Unregistered dogs were not allowed in the school and would certainly be thrown out if the headmaster caught sight of it. Snuffles clung to the boy like a second skin from the moment they met, and Harry adored him.

As they stepped into the darkest corridor of the dungeon Snuffles hung his head, sniffing the ground. Harry hadn’t noticed. The silhouette of someone standing behind a set of armour evaded him; his thoughts were much too engrossed on finding that missing book his father refused to let up about.

“Riddle, wait!” The girl with frizzy brown hair jumped out from behind Harry and grabbed his arm. The large dog growled low at her. She flinched at the disembodied sound but refused to let that deter her. “Don’t go that way.”

Harry jerked back from her touch and straightened out his sleeve. “What do you want, Granger? I have to get back and change before detention. There’s no time to-”

“They’re down there waiting for you,” she whispered, pointing to the darkest part of the corridor. “I followed them down here.”

He stopped and peered down the hall, hoping to catch a glimpse of anything through the darkness. He glanced back at Hermione. “You mean Weasley? Thought he was your friend?”

“He is, that’s why I’m telling you. I don’t want him to get into any trouble,” she murmured. She began twisting strands of her hair between her fingers, giving Harry a jolt of remembrance that he hadn’t thought he felt before. The girl was acting like his mother when she was nervous. “He’s been listening to McLaggen. They’ve become pretty good friends and he really hates you. They wouldn’t tell me what they had planned, but it can’t be good. Anyhow, follow me back up, they won’t do anything if I’m here.” She grabbed his arm again and tugged, but Harry refused to budge.

“I’m not afraid of him. Get out of here, Mudblood, and keep your mouth shut.” He pulled his wand out of his pocket and held it to his chest but Hermione jerked him back another step. Dumbfounded, he looked at her again. “What?!”

Hermione was a smallish girl, hardly a match for Harry, but nonetheless very insistent. “You’re not like him, no matter how hard you pretend to be. I’ve been watching you all week,” she whispered. “I know what happened with Percy and it wasn’t your fault. You were naive, they took advantage of you. Don’t make that same mistake again.”

“I’m not backing down from a fight…and I won’t use an Unforgivable, I’ll just stun them,” he mumbled, feeling hesitant.

“I can’t let you do that…” She jabbed her wand into his side and tightened her grip over his wrist.

“Are you joking, girl? You know I could disarm you and have you hanging from the ceiling without so much as opening my mouth, right? Right?” He almost laughed from watching her expression change from seriousness to utter fright, but a twinge of guilt overlaid any humour. She was honestly trying to help and it was the first time anyone had risked anything for him at the school.

She dropped her wand to her side and backed up a step. Her voice quivered right along with her chin. “I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

Harry sighed. “All right, don’t cry or anything…I can’t handle that, just go…or something. I’m not going to hurt Weasley. I can’t promise anything about McLaggen though,” he said, giving her a small smile.

Hermione’s air changed once more as she lit up with awe. “I knew you weren’t like Malfoy! I just knew it! Come with me, Riddle, please!” She held out her hand for a very long time. Begrudgingly, Harry took it and shooed Snuffles off.

“Don’t you dare tell anyone I backed down,” he whispered, letting her lead him up through the passages back toward the main hall. Hermione was so awkward and bookish, and yet the bravest girl he had ever met. Harry glanced at her several times and chuckled under his breath as she dragged him on.

Hermione squeezed his hand as they reached the top of the tunnels. “I think coming with me was braver than staying and fighting, Harry. I just want you to know that.”

“There’s still a problem about my detention. It’s down there,” he said, and pointed back to the dungeons.

“Mr Riddle, what are you doing up here when you are supposed to be in the potions classroom in under five minutes?” Headmaster Snape slithered up behind the two students without either of them hearing him. Hermione jumped and released Harry’s hand.

“I was headed that way, but er…I uhh…”

“I made him escort me out of the dungeons. I got frightened by some Slytherins who thought I was in a restricted area, sir,” she said before he could finish and tapped on the M-shaped brand burned onto the back of her left hand. She turned back to Harry and beamed a quick smile. “I want to thank you again. All us Mudbloods aren’t poison, Riddle. You’re much smarter than you let on. Please keep that in mind.” She scurried off before he could reply.

Snape rolled his eyes, grabbed his arm and shoved him back into the dungeon corridor. “Let’s go, boy.” 

* * *

As they reached the potions dungeon, Harry stepped inside and froze. “What-who’s that?” He cocked his head at the very strange looking man sitting at the teacher’s desk. Professor Snape hauled him into the room and locked the door.

“This is an old friend of mine, Riddle. He’s come to observe you for a while.” Snape grabbed Harry’s shoulder and shoved him down in a chair. “You may have heard of him. Alastor Moody, this is the emperor’s son.”

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, I don’t bite.” Moody stared at him with both eyes; one dark and the magical one an odd electric blue. “I’m going to tell you right now I’m not a friend of your father’s, not even close, but that doesn’t mean you and I can’t figure out this problem I’ve been having.”

Harry rested against the front of his desk in interest. He could feel the strong radiance of magic resonating off of the scarred man, and it intrigued him. “What’s the problem you’re having?” he said, without a hint of fear in his words.

Moody smiled, his magical eyes spun and centred on Snape. “He’s smarter than he looks.” He held his wand up and pointed it at the boy. “I’m going to cast a spell on you. It won’t hurt. It’s a revealing charm to help me determine how they’ve covered it up. Are you all right with that?”

“Reveal what? I’m not hiding anything, sir.” Harry felt a slight trepidation flutter in his stomach. Nothing yet had been explained to him, and allowing a stranger to cast spells on him was not something he wanted to happen. “I don’t think I can allow that,” he warned, gripping his wand in his pocket.

“Yea right, I suppose I should explain myself first.” Mad-Eye lowered his wand and set it on the desk. He sat up in his chair. “Did you love your father, Harry?”

“You mean James? Of course I did,” he said.

“Then I’m wondering why you would lie about who murdered him that night.”

Harry nearly forgot to breathe as he stared back at Moody. “What the hell do you mean—I didn’t lie!”

“You were there that night?”

“Yes!

“You saw Sirius Black do what?”

“He killed him!”

Moody leaned in further. “Exactly how?”

Harry’s nose scrunched up in revulsion. “The bastard hit my father in the hallway, knocked him down. Jammed his wand down his throat and said the Unforgivable. That’s what I saw.”

Moody’s expression remained unchanged. Snape shifted between them. “And why didn’t he kill you, Harry? Why would he leave you as a witness and simply fall asleep on top of his dead lover’s corpse?”

Harry shook his head. His mind raced over the vivid images of that night in the hallway. He was standing outside of his door in full view of the two men when it happened. “Maybe I…Maybe he didn’t see me.” His whispered words sounded more like a question than an answer to him.

“You don’t seem sure though. If you were standing in the hallway,” he held up a thick booklet of parchment, reading it over carefully, “Yea, in the hallway, practically on top of them when it happened. You mean to tell me the man who hated you, as you’ve said here in your deposition during the Wizengamot, decided to kill a man he’d been friends with for over two decades and not you…a witness who stood openly in front of them and watched your father die?”

“I’m not making this up!” Harry looked at Snape in desperation. “I’m not, Professor! I’m not!”

“I don’t think you are, my boy,” interrupted Moody. “I think you’re telling me exactly what you think you saw. I’m just trying to understand why these occurrences happened this way.”

“We can check the memory easily enough,” said Snape. He drew his wand and held it to Harry’s head. “Would you allow that?”

Harry pushed it away. “Can I go now?”

Moody gave Snape a quick nod and before Harry could stand up, Snape wrapped his long bony fingers around his neck. _“Obliviate!_ ”

“We’ll try again tomorrow.” With a heavy limp, Mad-Eye Moody clomped across the room and left.

“Riddle, wake up.” Severus tapped the side of Harry’s face to rouse him.

“Hmm?” Harry sat up in his chair, feeling very groggy. “I’m sorry, Professor, I must be coming down with something…I’m so sorry.”

Snape nodded and gestured to the door. “Go to your dormitory and lie down. We’ll resume tomorrow.” 

* * *

As he traipsed into the common room Harry was barraged, overpowered, dragged off into the dorm room and thrown face-first onto a bed. Before he could get his wand free he was forced onto his back and his hands were pinned over his head. “You keep your mouth shut or I’ll hurt you!”

Harry looked up at his attacker, gasping. “Oh, but that’s the best part!” He giggled, taking in the scent of Draco’s hair that swayed in wisps around his face.

The pretty boy pursed his lips as he surveyed the lovely thing trapped beneath him. “Hope you don’t like this particular uniform. It’s about to be torn off and splattered with semen by the time I’m through with you.”

Harry shrugged with indifference. “Naw, that’s fine. Got hundreds of them.”

“Blah, so boring. Wiggle around and pretend you don’t like this or something,” Draco said, prodding his jaw. “You do it better than anyone else in…the…oh, sorry. I forgot.” He cringed, watching Harry grow pink with jealousy. “Well you do. No one compares to you.” He took his chin and tipped it up.

Harry was pouting. He concentrated on the emotion as his eyes drifted closed, wresting it with a magical anxiolytic stored deep in his mind. It was such a powerful thing; envy. It would be a shame to waste such energy on it when he could miss out on much needed sexual gratification. It was something he’d grown fond of having on a regular basis since his mother’s suicide and he was not about to let up now. Having suppressed it, his eyes snapped open in phony shock and he tugged at his wrists. “What, your grip is really tight, I can’t get loose! You said you were only playing- what are you doing?” he shouted, and watched his cousin light up with glee above him.

Draco dropped down over him, propped up by his hands. “Surprise!”

His eyes were hard, perhaps more practiced than Harry was comfortable staring into. He felt his own forehead crease with concern. “You’re not gonna stare at me like that the whole time, are you?”

“No, sorry.” Draco shook his head, letting strands of white hair whip back and forth, smacking his cheeks. He blinked down at the other boy, letting his eyes soften, with a sense of maybe taking things farther than his captive might be comfortable with. Harry’s smile broke through. He felt himself smiling, too. “I don’t mean to frighten you. I get carried away, you know me.”

His cock was already hard and rutting between Harry’s thighs. And despite the tension they ground together to intensify the pleasure they were desperate to indulge in. They couldn’t kiss fast or hard enough to sate the need. Thankfully, the act itself required little more than movement to set the bed on fire. Their tongues were out, tapping, touching, scraping through clanking teeth and bruised lips. Slender fingers unzipped trousers and coiled around the other’s cock.

Needing more, it was never enough, Draco got them both to their knees and shoved Harry’s head down into his groin. His eyes screwed shut at the soft inside of his mouth and the fingers slipping up and down along the seam of his bottom. He sunk his fingers in his hair and thrust forward into the silky glide of his lips fast, hard, as far as he could without gagging the other boy too much. Harry had two wet fingers prodding inside him. He clenched up as he came with wracking pulsation, holding Harry in place despite his sudden scramble to get his dick out of his mouth. “Don’t you dare! You swallow it.”

Choking, slurping, semen leaking out of the corners on his lips, Harry broke free and backed up to the bedstead to spit the remainder of it on his cousin’s pillow. “Fuck you, that was vile.”

“Oh, you loved it.”

Snuffles was at the foot of the bed, peeking in through the curtains. Both boys blushed and covered themselves with sheets and duvets as if caught in the act. Harry patted the mattress. “C’mon, boy, let’s go to bed. I need to get some sleep, got detention again tomorrow and I keep falling asleep during them. Snape’s gonna murder me.”

The large dog hopped onto the bed and snuggled in between the two boys, dropping his head on Harry’s side as he curled up around him for warmth. Draco peeked up, leaning over the dog to apologise for being foul. “I’m really sorry about that, Har. Don’t be mad at me.” He covered Snuffle’s ears. “I’ll let you do that to me tomorrow. Whatever you want, okay?”

With still pursed lips, Harry shrugged and nodded. “You better.”

“I will!” he replied, dropping onto his pillow, wincing, feeling the cold coagulated jism on his cheek. “Merlin, you spit it on my pillow!”

Harry laughed and closed his eyes, satisfied with his subtle revenge. He kissed Snuffle’s nose and stuffed Moony under his chin. “Night.” 

* * *

After two months worth of weekend detentions, Harry found himself confronted by the ex-Auror again, or to him; the very first time. Each meeting started out the same, he grew fascinated with the strong magical resin he exuded, his mind worked like a vice, he seemed to know everything, to be on top of whatever he spoke of. And today was no different. He and Snape were making headway on the mystery of a missing Phoenix member.

“So this little ditty is called a Pensieve. You can replay memories in it. Anything you can think of can he stored up for safe keeping and played inside this bowl whenever you want. Would you like to try it?” Mad-eye Moody gestured to the basin of silvery-white liquid that Harry was peering into. “Go ahead, give it a go. I promise it won’t bite.”

Harry looked back at Severus. “I’m not sure I should…My father said I shouldn’t-”

Before he could finish, Snape reached out, grabbing up a handful of inky-black hair. He shoved Harry’s head into the bowl as Moody stepped back in laughter. “Well, that’s one way of doing it, I suppose,” he said, dipping his own head inside and breaking the surface.

Straightening out his school robes, Harry looked over as Mad-Eye landed beside him and took his hand. “C’mon then, Riddle, let’s catch up to that man there.”

They were standing in the middle of London. Harry was certain he hadn’t felt the awful tightness of Apparition or the uncomfortable tug of a portkey being used on him, and yet he was no where near the school anymore. “What’s going on?” he whispered, stumbling alongside the grizzled old man.

“Thought I just explained this to yea well enough, boy…Keep up the pace!” His wooden leg clicked on the ground with each step.

Harry was intrigued. His father had warned him about doing anything he wasn’t familiar with, but he had so little knowledge of the outside world, seemingly anything attracted his interest. “So, we’re in a memory? Whose memory is this?”

Moody pointed to the old shop down a few metres from where they had stopped. The name on the hanging sign over the door read ‘Winstanley's Bookstore & Stationers’. A young boy ran out of the building to its right and flung the door open to enter the small corner bookstore. “This is a Muggle’s memory, that boy that went inside. His name’s not important, it’s what he saw.”

“When are we?” Harry asked. The street was lined with shops. It was the signage, the decor of the storefront windows, the clothing passersby were wearing that caught the boy’s attention. Everything looked crisp but outdated, Surely this event he was about to witness happened some time ago.

“We’ve gone back nearly 50 years. Early 1943, I ‘spect, sometime directly after the New Year. Look there, Riddle. Pay attention.” Moody pointed to the shop again.

The door opened and a teen aged boy, looking to be around the same age as Harry walked out of the shop, headed toward them. He was very tall, dressed in a tailored suit and held himself with the grace of a wealthy regal. He also looked very, very familiar. “Oh gods, that’s Tom! That’s my father!” He looked back at Moody, confused.

The child came out of the shop, searching the busy area, spotting young Riddle. “Excuse me, sir!” he shouted as he wound his way toward him, bobbing and weaving through the crowded street until he landed the other boy’s attention. He was clutching a parcel wrapped in newsprint and twine. Tom stopped a hair away from Harry and Moody. “Oh, good, I caught you.” The child handed the boy the package. “Mum sent me to catch you. You forgot to take your purchases with you. She hadn’t finished wrapping them yet when you left. You must have forgotten; I’d gone next door to borrow twine, remember?”

The side of Tom’s lip twitched but he took the bundle and stuffed it under his arm. “How absent-minded of me. Thank you.” The memory began to ebb, the cloudy edges closed in on the two wizards until Harry felt a great urge to take a real breath and pulled his head out of the Pensieve.

“What’s this about?” He was looking between Snape and the Ex-Auror. “So he forgot to take a package. Why are you spying on my father?”

“What you must understand is it took us a long, long time sorting out this Muggle’s memories until we hit pay-dirt. We had no idea what we were looking for. All we had to go on was a diary. A diary that was planted on Ginny Weasley sometime early this year. When she wrote in it - it wrote back. It frightened her, especially after what happened to her brother. Her family had warned her to beware of anything unusual so she gave it to her father. We suspected it had dark magic attached to it. The stamp on the back of it led us to this bookstore.”

“What’s your point?” Harry asked him, crossing his arms.

“The point, Riddle,” Moody’s electric blue eye swivelled around to land on Snape, who was inching around to get behind the boy. “Is that we had a member of our organisation studying it, haphazardly, I’ll admit, as we assumed it was merely a cursed object intending on harming the girl. A week or so back she went missing. We strongly suspect her disappearance has something to do with that diary, as it went missing with her. We had underestimated it’s significance up until now.”

“Still not following, old man,” Harry replied. “So my father bought something at a shop that sold diaries in London some 50 years back. Please connect the dots for me.”

“He did not purchase a diary in that memory. We suspect he nicked it and tried to slip out with it while he had the shopkeeper wrap up some things he’d purchased to occupy her.”

“Suspect? You don’t even know!” Harry shouted, growing tired of this accusation.

“What we do know is that you had your cousin slip the diary in the girl’s possession sometime earlier during this term, Riddle.” Harry whirled around, startled by Snape’s voice coming from behind him and the damning words he had said. The Headmaster had his wand out and pointed at him. He was also showing off a vial of colourless liquid in the palm of his hand. “And, although you are a very skilled Occlumens, we did manage to get that much out of you before you resisted the potion’s effects. So, tell me, boy, did your father have you to give it to her specifically? What is it meant to do?”

“I have no idea…” Harry backed away and connected with Moody. He gasped and touched his scar. He needed to inform his father that he was in very big trouble.

Before he’d let that happen, Snape stunned him.

Moody bent down and picked him up. “Why did you do that? We have him!”

Snape wiped Harry’s memory of the incident. “He can communicate with his father through that scar. The man made this boy a Horcrux. A side effect created a direct link with their minds.” He opened the door to the classroom and peered down the hall before gesturing to the man that it was clear. “But we’re definitely onto something now. We know who’s responsible for Emmeline Vance’s disappearance, now we need to find out why.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this isn't my best work, and I'm feeling quite bad about it. A few people hurt my feelings really badly and it effected me harder than I'm used to. Updates will probably be slower but whatever, no one is reading this anyways.


	10. Awakenings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's luck runs out when it comes to avoiding angry Gryffindors. Lord Voldemort is called to the school after his son is attacked and discovers that the diary had finally claimed its victim, but not the one he'd hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I failed to change the possession of the cloak of invisibility in the last chapter. In the first writing of it, it was stolen and Harry’s memory wiped of that knowledge. In this version it was not stolen. Sorry about that.

Draco had Harry up against the circular stone wall of the Owlery, both crushing regurgitated mice and vole skeletons underfoot that were hidden within the straw, pretending the whole atmosphere was sanitary. “I’m really trying to keep my lunch in,” Harry told him between breaths for air. “Where is that blasted owl?”

Mere seconds after asking, his father’s black-banded owl soared into the Owlery and landed on a perch near the boys. The Malfoy family eagle owl appeared shortly thereafter. Both carried parcels filled with letters and sweets sent from their parents. The boys detached them and attached their letters to them and sent the posts on their way.

“Oh,” Harry muttered, frowning as he read his father’s letter while they made their way back to the Slytherin common room. “She’s moved back into the house. Didn’t care for Little Hangelton’s graveyard as much as he’d hoped she would.”

“Bellatrix? I thought she was more comfortable out there? What happened?” Draco asked, stuffing his own letter sent from his mother into the pocket of his robes.

Harry sighed. “It seems she can’t accept the fact that she killed herself. She’s turned to haunting him and there’s not a goddamn thing he can do to stop her outside of finding one of those mythical basilisks to petrify her with…” He read on, laughing to himself. “Serves him right. Oh, he wants to know if I got the diary off to Weasley.” His eyes came up over the letter. “I forgot all about that. Did you do it?”

Draco smiled. “Mhmm, ages ago.”

Hot rivers of sudden worry began to cool. “Oh, thank Merlin, if I’d lost it like that sodding Slytherin book he just won’t shut up about I’d probably have to run away or kill myself.” He finished the letter and tapped his wand to it, incinerating it. “He says something should have happened by now in regards to it. I wonder what…”

“Why would he send that book through owl post anyway? It’s not your fault it never got to you.”

Harry shrugged as they approached the stone wall blocking the entrance to the Slytherin common room. “Well, he’s got it fixed now. No one can intercept his ugly owl’s post except for the person it’s delivered to, completely undetectable.” He dropped his parcels on top of Draco’s. “I have to go back up, he wants me to go ask Moaning Myrtle something. Take these in for me and do not eat my glacial snow flakes!”

“You want me to come with?” He leaned in, letting Harry arrest his lips.

Harry groped him through his robes before backing up and shaking his head. “Naw, it’s going to take a while, maybe an hour or so. He wants her to go check on something down in the depths of the school. He says there’s a chamber down there.”

“Ooh, what kind of chamber? Sounds creepy!”

He shrugged as he walked off. “No clue. Don’t tell anyone about it, he says it’s a secret. I’ll be back soon.”

* * *

After waiting an hour for Harry to return and growing very bored listening to Blaise and Pansy drool all over each other, Draco decided it’d be less annoying in bed so he could eat Harry’s snow flakes in peace. He gasped under his hand the moment he stepped into the dorm room, looking down at the great mess of stuffing scattered all over Harry’s bed. “Oh my god, that stupid dog ate Moony. For the love of Merlin…Should I clean this up? Hide it, or let him see?”

Blaise, who had followed him in to steal some of his candy, shrugged. “Try and fix it. I don’t want to hear his whining while I’ve got some serious snogging to accomplish.” He squeezed Pansy’s hand and glanced over from his bed, wincing at the tattered bits. “Where’s Moony’s outside covering? I don’t see it.”

Pansy cringed. “Look, I’ll come back later. I don’t wanna be here when he sees this. He’ll find a way to blame me for it and try to curse me again and I’m not feeling well.” She rubbed her large belly as she got to her toes to kiss Blaise one last time. “You should probably help him.”

Getting on his knees, Draco looked all over the area, peeking under the bed, risking doxy bite-wounds by shoving his hand behind the chest. He stood up and shook his head. “He must have eaten it. It’s not here.”

“Well, maybe it’s time he learnt to sleep without a doll. I mean, c’mon,” Theodore said, joining the search for Moony’s outer fur. He looked up from the floor and held up a small patch of matted and slobbered-on felt. “Here’s his jacket…I think.”

Crabbe entered the dorm room and stopped, stunned. He quickly closed the door behind him and brought his fingertips to his mouth. “Oh shite.”

Draco fretted. “Maybe I could write his father. He could get him a new Moony, right? Or my mother, yes, she could find a Moony somewhere. I’ll go write to her.” He turned around and stiffened, hearing the footsteps of someone headed in their direction. As everyone else who resided there was present it could only be one person. Spinning back around, he flicked his wand over the bed to clean up the rubbish. “He’s coming. Not a peep out of any of you! I’ll deal with this!”

“Your funeral, Draco,” Goyle murmured, peeking out from his curtains.

Regulus opened the door, giving everyone a bit of relief. “I’m sorry, have I interrupted anything important?” he said, seeing the five boys clamouring around the room in search of something. He noted the absence of Harry and frowned. “I was hoping to catch Harry before his detention.”

Draco plopped down on his bed to think up a quick lie. He was very good at doing that. “He went to the library again, still can’t find that book. Oh, and your stupid dog ate his Moony. That mangy beast has been nothing but trouble since he got here.”

The large animal had come to live in the dorms over two years back. Regulus claimed it was his mother’s dog, although Draco could not remember ever torturing it at his aunt’s house when they visited her. She had passed away long ago and he shrugged it off, figuring he had probably forgotten about it.

“I’m terribly sorry about that. I’m sure he’ll get over it, though. He does seem very fond of Snuffles. He’ll forgive him.” There was a collective groan emitted throughout the room. Regulus saw all the boys shaking their heads. “Oh dear…Is there anything I can do?”

“Yeah, gut the ragged mutt and get the fur from its belly,” said Draco. “Why isn’t he back yet? He should have been back ages ago…”

* * *

It had been an hour but Myrtle had yet to return. Harry had specifically told her to look inside and come straight back. Ghosts, to him, were particularly annoying but had their uses. Tired of waiting, he steamed up the large mirror over one of the working basins and wrote “come see me in my dorm” with his finger on the foggy glass.

The moment he stepped onto the threshold of the dungeons, he sensed danger; a sense of a presence was somewhere close and prepared to strike. He could hear them forming the words of a jinx in their mind, they were close. His wand was out, his head whipping back and forth as he walked in slow steps backwards. “Come on out you-” From behind, a stunner curse rocketed toward him. He threw up a shield and countered it. “Who’d you bring with you, Weasel? Is it McLaggen? This should be fun.”

Another curse was flung at him to his side, and another in front of him. He was surrounded, exposed while the three cowards remained silent and hidden behind statues lining the walkway.

Harry dodged another blind curse, his heart racing behind his ribcage. Ducking against the leaky stone wall, he flicked his wand at the three statues, front, side, back in quick succession to cloud them in a smokescreen. “Weasley, you really do have awful aim! I don’t want to hurt you- I just want to get back to my room and think about hurting you! What say you?” He would much rather hurt him, that was for sure, but the trouble he would get in would certainly get him removed again. He couldn’t risk that.

Something very large brushed past his calf, giving Harry a start. He hadn’t expected it, forgetting all about the large black dog hidden beneath his cloak that always followed him around. Temporarily shaken, the next curse flung his way finally connected. Harry fell back against the wall in a heap, groaning out like a wounded animal.

In seconds, Weasley was over him with his wand pointed at his heart. “I thought you were supposed to be better than this.” He stepped on Harry’s wand and picked it up, snapping it in two. “Oops, how clumsy of me.”

“You sonuvabitch.” Harry struggled to throw off the curse that had turned his limbs into jelly. “Don’t you look smug…Three against one, the odds were really in my favour.”

Ron turned around and jerked his head at the two other boys with him. Cormac came around and kicked Harry in the side, knocking the wind from his sails. “Pick him up, get him in there.” A low growl pricked the Gryffindors’ ears. Ron narrowed his eyes, looking around the hall but it was far too smoky to see anything. Seamus and Cormac lifted the Slytherin up under his arms and legs and carried him through a rounded wood door.

“Get ready to kiss your arse goodbye, Riddle,” Cormac threatened. The door was closed and locked. A single torch flickered inside. Shoving Harry up against the back of the teacher’s desk, the Gryffindor Seeker wrenched his arms up behind his back. He held him bent over it with one hand and reached for the belt of his trousers with the other. “I’ve been waiting for this for years, pretty boy…YEARS!”

Seamus looked back at Ron, who had gone quite pink in the face. He had his hands balled into fists, ready to beat the ever-loving piss out of the Slytherin and had definitely not considered whatever McLaggen was about to do. The tall redhead squirmed a bit, seeing Harry struggle in attempt to stand back up. McLaggen bashed his head against the desk to daze him docile. His glasses broke, slashing open the skin on the bridge of his nose.

“Er…You shouldn’t do that. He’ll tell,” Ron croaked, finding his voice at last. “I just wanted to scare him, you know? Punch him in the face a few times. Maybe knock a tooth loose.”

“He won’t tell, will you, Riddle?” Cormac jerked Harry’s head up by the hair and made him shake it ‘no’ before smashing it back down into the top of the desk. “He’s not going to tell anyone because he’s not a snitch, not like his pretty little boyfriend. Besides, if it got out that You-Know-Who’s son got overpowered and fucked up the arse by other students so easily it would look very bad for him.”

“Come on, Ron, let’s get out of here,” Seamus whispered. “I don’t want any part of this.”

Ron stood frozen. His wand fell to the floor. He imagined that Ginny might be a bit disappointed at his sudden lack of courage, but he was certain Hermione would murder him if he helped Cormac out in any way. Seamus backed up against the door and ran out.

“Get over here and hold him down!” Cormac hissed, watching the Irish boy flee. He turned to Ron, his eyes wild. “Remember what he did to Percy? You know you’ve been dying to get revenge, Ron. Just hold his head down on the desk here, I’ll do the rest.” He had shimmied Harry’s trousers down to his calves and began working on his knickers, groping and pinching his cheek in plain view. “This little bastard has it coming. C’mon, Ron, get over here.”

Harry fought back with everything he had, but his frame was much smaller than the Gryffindor Seeker’s, it was impossible to physically remove himself from beneath him. His nose was bleeding from the constant head-thumps against the desk. The scar on his forehead began to bleed as well. “I don’t…” Ron mumbled, losing his voice once more. Blood was pouring from the overpowered boy’s nose and spread out over the desk in a sickening red puddle.

Cormac grabbed up a handful of hair again after the boy connected with a kick to his knee, smacking his face against the oak front again. The thud made Ron wince. “Stay still, Riddle!” He wrenched his hands up behind his back with such force Ron could have sworn he heard something snap. Harry screamed and went limp, unable to remain calm or fight back any longer.

Ron blinked several times, as if waking out of a trance. “No, get off of him!” He shoved Cormac hard, sending him falling off into a shelf of books.

The door to the room flew open and Draco and Goyle ran inside, with Blaise, Teddy and Crabbe in tow. With their wands out, they hexed Ron and Cormac before they even realised anyone had entered. Both boys toppled over like statues to the floor. Harry slid off the desk into a dead faint.

* * *

Sitting at Harry’s bedside and patting his hand like a frantic old granny, Draco scowled at Madam Pomfrey while she doted on the other two boys in the beds across the room. “Christ, look what they did to you…oh fuck, you’re nose…Can you fix it? GET OVER HERE AND FIX THIS, WOMAN!”

Without looking up, she waved him off. “You need to calm down this instant, Mr Malfoy, I’m doing the best that I can. He’s got the tonic in his system, it takes a few minutes to heal everything up.”

Gregory clapped a hand over Draco’s shoulder, shoving him back into his chair. “He’ll be fine, mate. Lucky for him Snuffles came barging in to get our attention.” He turned, glaring over at the beds holding Ron and Cormac. His hand tightened over Draco, making him yelp. “And lucky for them I knew Professor Black was on his way.”

Draco leaned over the bed, nuzzling his nose against Harry’s cheek. “You still love me?”

“Of course I do,” Harry groaned. He tried to sit up, but found out that every muscle in his body was on fire. “I’d love you even more if you’d summon my Moony for me, that bastard snapped my wand.”

“Oh, uh…” The other Slytherins looked at the ground.

“What?” Harry gaped at him. “Please?”

“It’s not that I won’t,” he told him, cringing. “It’s just…Snuffles ate him. I’m so sorry, Harry. This couldn’t have come at a worse time.” He patted his shoulder. “But don’t worry; I’ve sent an owl off to my mother to get you a new one.”

Pouting, Harry dropped his chin to his chest. “Oh, thanks, Draco. Do you think a new Moony will feel the same?”

“They’re going to pay so dearly and you won’t have any part in it. You just sit back, let me handle it,” he whispered, giving Goyle a look. Gregory nodded and grinned. “And your father’s been alerted. He’s here, he’s talking to Snape about getting these two fucks expelled.”

Harry sat up, ignoring the aching. “No, no, no, please tell him that’s not necessary. I don’t want him to know I lost a fight. Just tell him I took a Quaffle to the face and that I’m sorry he was bothered.”

Draco shrugged. “That’s not up to me, Harry. He’s already here.”

“Oh, hell, he’s gonna murder me.” Looking over at Ron’s bed, Harry locked eyes with him. “Thanks, Weasley,” he said. “I mean it.”

“Are we cool?” Ron asked him, looking now between him and the other Slytherins.

Harry nodded. “I’m not a snitch.”

“Then we’re cool, Riddle.”

Fresh blood began to seep out of Harry’s left nostril. He wiped it away and gave off a weak smile at the boy, who gaped back at with wide eyes for a moment before smiling back. Draco smacked his arm and shoved him against the mattress. “What was that for?”

“Nothing,” said Harry, looking up at the handsome boy. “I think we might be even.” 

* * *

Lord Voldemort paced back and forth in front of Severus Snape’s desk. He looked flawless in every fashion. His brow was knitted, his hands clasped behind his back. His stature rivalled any who had stood before him, and Snape nearly bowed to him each time he looked his way. “Is there going to be action taken, or not? That McLaggen boy damn near killed my son. I don’t care what he says, and I don’t care whether Harry’s willing to talk…I want him out.” He looked in Harry’s direction and shook his head in disappointment. “Three weak little boys got the better of you…You, Harry.”

The boy looked at his feet. “I got distracted, I’m sorry.”

He turned back to Snape. “What about Malfoy? He and Goyle say they stopped them, can’t you use his word against them?”

“According to them, the two boys were fighting amongst themselves when they entered, sir,” said Severus, shrugging.

He dropped a hand on Harry’s shoulder to get his attention. “What did I tell you about staying clear of Weasleys, eh? You got marbles in your gob? Answer me!”

Harry looked away. “No, sir, I don’t know why they contacted you. It’s no big deal.” He glared up at Snape through the hair draped over his eyes.

Voldemort’s expression softened seeing how shaken his son was. He gestured to the door while looking back at the headmaster. “Can we have a moment alone please? I think he might be a bit nervous to say what really happened with you here.” Severus stood up and nodded, taking his leave into the back of the office. Tom knelt down in front of Harry’s chair and lifted his chin. “Okay, no more lies. What happened after they disarmed you? Did they hurt you? Did any of them do things to you?”

Harry was awestruck. He wasn’t sure what to say other than ‘No’. “Er, umm they threw loads of curses at me. I got distracted for a second and I missed one. That’s all I remember.”

“Lies,” he told him, pointing at his own eyes. “You may have fooled them but you’re not good enough yet to fool me. They said they had your trousers around your ankles. If you won’t say it I’ll take the fucking memory of it from you if I have to. You think I didn’t sense your fear? It killed me knowing I couldn’t get here on time to save you! I’ll have them both expelled for this, I’ll murder them myself-What did they do to you?”

“What do you want to know? Isn’t it enough that everyone in school will know? Or that Moony is dead now and I have nothing to hold onto tonight when I go to bed? Don’t make me do this, daddy, I don’t want to say it!” he cried, shoving his father’s hand away. “I don’t want to tell you what he tried to do. Just know that nothing happened because of Weasley. He stopped it, okay?” The urge to cry built up heavy in his chest and behind his eyes. He reached out and hugged his father, resting his head on his shoulder. “He stopped it, I swear.”

“Oh, baby, it’s alright. Don’t cry. You can come home if you want. I won’t put you through this.” His breathing grew heavy as he pulled the boy to his feet. He slipped his arms around him, holding him close. “Come home to me. I miss you. I don’t want anyone to harm you.”

Harry looked up at him and smiled. “I don’t want to go home. Honestly, I’m having a lot of fun despite what happened. I’ll be home at Christmas, you can hold out until then,” he teased him. “Besides, you’ve got mummy to keep you company again.”

“Very funny.” Voldemort tapped his freshly healed nose. “I’m very proud of you. Your bravery is remarkable, Harry. Oh, yeah…any news on that lost book?”

Harry’s heart dropped into his stomach. “I’m looking. The old librarian won’t let me back into the Restricted Section without permission and no one will give it to me because Snape says I can’t get inside until I’ve paid back my debt. It has to be here.”

“But the diary…Have you put the diary in place yet?”

“We put it in Weasley’s cauldron ages ago, just like you told me to.”

“Excellent.”

“You’d mentioned that something would happen. What exactly?”

“Is the girl still attending? I mean, is she…have you seen her recently?”

“Yeah, I saw her at dinner.”

“Interesting.” He scratched his chin, pacing around in a little circle in front of Harry. “What about Myrtle? Have you spoken with her yet?”

Harry gave him a curt nod. “I sent her down there to see if anything was stirring, just as you asked. She never came back, though.”

“I could have sworn I felt it awaken last night. But it couldn’t have, could it?” He stopped, looking concerned. “You say she never came back? She wouldn’t know to check behind the statue…It must be awake. I’ll have to go down and check for myself. Anyway, in case it hasn’t, you’re going to need this.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a phial. Harry held it up to the light, watching the silvery contents swirling around inside. “Keep this on you. When the time is right you’ll know what to do with it. Oh, and one more thing.” He flicked his wand over his shoulder and raised his free hand; palm up, fingers splayed.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked him.

“Wait for it,” his father told him, grinning at him. “Shouldn’t be much longer.” He pointed to the French doors leading to the Headmaster’s balcony. “Be a dear and open them for me.”

Harry threw the doors open, and as he turned back to face him something grey flew past his head and landed in his father’s hand. “Moony!”

Lord Voldemort waved the tattered plush werewolf dressed in a little suit a few times over the boy’s head before tossing it to him. “You honestly think there’s only been one Moony this whole time? Got a trunk full of them, darling. In case of emergency.”

“Thank you.” Harry threw himself in his arms, squeezing Moony between them. “You really are the best.”

He flicked his wand again, this time toward the entrance to the headmaster’s office and opened the door. Within seconds the Cloak of Invisibility flew into his hand. “I need to borrow this.”

Harry blanched. It was the only thing able to conceal Snuffles with. “When will I get it back?”

Voldemort glanced at him suspiciously. “Why? What are you using it for?”

Harry moved his eyes just enough to successfully lie to his father. “Oh, I was using it to stay clear from Weasley. I guess I don’t need it anymore.”

“Good.” Lord Voldemort balled it up and tucked it under his arm. “Mordred, I hate going down there, it’s going to ruin my suit.” He kissed Harry good-bye and clapped him on the bum.

“And what do you need it for? Planning on sneaking into my dorm room sometime soon?” Before he could answer Harry pulled him into a real kiss.

The Dark Lord’s normally stiff posture thawed. A soft moan of lament hummed against Harry’s puffy lips. As he broke the kiss he took his boy’s face in his hands. And as tempting as it was to do it, to sneak into his room at night, he was a very busy man and needed it for other reasons. “It’s something like that, darling. Something like that.”

* * *

In the dead of the night, one of Snuffle’s ears perked up, hearing soft footsteps approaching the dorm room. He got up and climbed off the bed, having overheard Harry tell Draco earlier in the evening that his father had borrowed the cloak. He feared he might be using it check up on the boy after what happened with the Gryffindors. He crawled under the large four-poster bed and sniffed the air, inhaling his familiar scent of his worst enemy. He forced himself not to snarl or lose control and attack the man. Not yet, anyway. The man’s polished leather shoes appeared at the foot of the bed as the cloak pooled beside them. The mattress sagged with the added weight as he climbed onto it.

As quietly as he could, the Animagus sneaked out of the dorm room, headed for his brother’s chambers.

A boy of 16 curled up beside Harry’s sleeping form, petting his hair. “I’m going to watch over you, observe you from afar to find out who the true enemies are. He knows something is going on, that there are people here that can’t be trusted.” He kissed the boy’s cheek and climbed back off the bed. Harry whimpered from the loss of warmth. The boy draped himself with the cloak and stood off in the corner of the room; watching, waiting.


	11. The Phoenix's Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape and Moody figure out a way to take Harry's memories from him without his permission but someone else is watching.

Regulus Black could not stop gazing around the room, knowing the Dark Lord was somewhere inside hidden beneath the Cloak of Invisibility. His brother had told him he could smell him around Harry every time he tried to enter the dorms. He could not be seen by the man who knew he was an Animagus, and feared more than once that he had been spotted.

Severus Snape entered the room full of Slytherins and Gryffindors bent over their cauldrons in attempts at making a successful batch of Amortentia. He stood in front of Black’s desk and cleared his throat. “We will be starting Apparition class for those of you who elect to take it when you return after the new year. It will be held in the Great Hall if you are turning 17 before the end of this term.”

Harry and Draco groaned. Neither boy would be of age until the summer, not that Harry had any shot at it if he were.

Snape sneered at him before continuing. “The cost will be 12 Galleons and is being taught by Apparition Instructor Wilkie Twycross of the Ministry of Magic.” He gave the other professor a nod and b-lined for Harry’s desk. “Detention tonight after dinner, Riddle.”

“What, today? It’s Monday,” Harry whined.

“Yes, but you won’t be here this weekend since everyone is leaving for the holidays. Do be on time, we have a lot of work to do.”

Harry looked down at his cauldron as Snape walked away, dejected once again by the state of his potion. “Please tell me it’s supposed to turn an ugly shade of orange,” he whimpered, looking up at Draco.

The other Slytherin cringed. “I don’t think so, love.”

“Here,” Hermione said. She was standing beside Harry looking into his cauldron. “We can fix this. Just add another daisy, that should clear it up.” She began plucking the petals off a purple daisy and rolled them up in her fingers, crushing them together. She dropped the sticky ball into the solution while Harry stirred it. Within a minute the colour cleared, turning a pearly sheen of white. Wisps of spiralling steam wafted up to their nostrils. They inhaled the lovely scent, knowing they’d repaired it.

“Thanks, Granger,” Harry said, patting her shoulder. “As always you’re a life-saver.”

“Not a problem, Riddle.”

Draco rolled his eyes as she walked back to her table. “Stop talking to her like she’s an equal. Your father would kill you if he knew.”

Harry shrugged. “She’s alright. She can’t help that her parents are Muggles.”

“I guess. I’m just chuffed that you can’t watch me practice tonight, though,” Draco said while he dipped a teaspoon into his potion. He held it up to Harry’s lips, giving him a taste. He sipped from Harry’s spoon and instantly felt his stomach fill up with butterflies. “Oh, damn,” he whispered, glancing off at Black to be sure he wasn’t looking. Harry was already groping him under his robes. He scooted closer to him, putting a knee between his parted thighs. “I wanna shag after your detention. Don’t get all exhausted like you usually are after, okay?”

Nibbling on his lip, dying to feel his mouth all over him, Harry agreed. “Mhmm, sounds good.”

* * *

Detentions always left Harry drained, but he could scarcely remember why. His mind was a jumbled mess anymore, every thought got stuck or lost. It always seemed to get worse after detentions, too. This particular detention would be different, although he had no idea what he was in for. Before he even entered the headmaster’s office he was stopped by Snape. “Drink this,” he said, giving him a vial of liquid.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s to protect you from doxy bites. We’re going to be cleaning out the cupboards inside.”

The instant he swallowed it he knew that was a lie. He dropped the bottle, gasping and gaping up at Snape. “What…wh…” He stumbled back, bumping into someone as Snape lunged at him. Befuddled, Snape pulled him into the office.

“You got him?” Moody called out from the stores, still fingering over potion bottles in search for the ones Snape asked him to find.

Harry blinked rapidly while he let Snape bind his hands to the arms the headmaster’s chair and a knotted a handkerchief around his neck. The headmaster made him drink something else that Moody had given him. He was already unable to form coherent thought, now he could not resist their line of questioning. His left eye began to twitch as he fought to unscramble his mind. He looked at Snape, then to Moody and back to Snape as they drilled him for information. He had no idea what they were saying to him but his mouth worked on its own to answer with truth to anything they asked him.

Having finally figured out a way to remove the boy’s memories with any sort of success, they took full advantage of it. Moody came up beside him and pressed the boy’s head to his hip and began removing memory after memory, transferring them to Snape who corked them up in little phials and poured one into the Pensieve. He dropped his head down into it while the ex-Auror stuffed the gag slung around their captive’s neck back into his mouth to silence his uncontrolled rambling. Satisfied, he threw his own head into the bowl to join the headmaster.

He opened his eyes to chaos. This scene was grim and cloudy, fogged with a haze baring no resemblance to a true memory. He found Snape and stood next to him watching Bellatrix Lestrange fall in a crumpled heap on the floor next to her husband while he got dressed. The Dark Lord moved suddenly, dropping to his knees beside the bed in the room, clutching the boy lying on it to look him over. “Did she hurt you? I’m so sorry that beast took her own life in front of you.”

“This is all wrong,” Snape told the man beside him. He waved a finger around the room, pointing at the obscuring mist of unclarity hanging in heavy translucent globs framing the room. “And his mind has been damaged from too many memory wipes. It’s a good thing we figured out another way to keep him from alerting the Dark Lord of what we’re doing.”

“Let’s see another. The death of James Potter,” Moody said, and pulled his head out of the Pensieve the same moment Snape had.

“We’ll need a clearer memory first. Please look for a memory potion and some Confusing Concoction in my stores, Alastor. I need to strengthen his mind and memories, but confuse him a bit more because of it.” He tapped on a beaker and added a drop of Dizzying Draught to the Befuddlement Draught and Babbling Beverage already inside. He gave it a little shake before adding three drops of Veritaserum. He waited for Moody to return, watching Harry repeatedly bite down on the knotted cloth trapped in his mouth preventing him from speaking. His eyes were no longer unfocused nor roaming around the room. He checked his watch. “Quickly,” he added, directing it to the walk-in cupboard. “It’s wearing off. Our little prisoner’s coming to.”

Moody cleared his throat and tossed a small bottle to Snape when he got his attention. “Where do you keep the memory potions?”

“Second shelf from the bottom on the right.” He uncorked the bottle of Confusion Concoction and poured a splash of it into the beaker. Alastor emptied the damaged bottled memory of James’s death and walked over to the chair Harry was sitting in.

After adding the memory enhancer, Snape joined him and pulled the cloth out from between Harry’s teeth, tipped his head back and poured the fresh mixture into his mouth. “Swallow it, Riddle. Good lad. Okay now, I want you to give us your recollection of the night your father died again, try and think really hard about it.”

Harry began to mumble and twitch without control. “Itititwas in the middleofthe night? Night. Fighting, cursing, hehehe he he hit him? Him. Cursed him, cursedwithawandcursed, he cursed him. Yesyes-”

Snape crammed the gag back into his mouth. “Enough of that, I’d say.” He gave Moody a nod and held the boy’s head steady while he removed the memory from him. “We’ll try it without the Babbling Beverage next round, I think we’ve broken him enough to leave it out. Let’s go.”

They dove into the Pensieve, landing in the middle of James Riddle’s sitting room. In the distance they heard a child yelp, the sounds of shuffling feet and a door open. They moved to the hallway, seeing little five-year-old Harry stumble out of his bedroom and blindly feel around for his father’s door. The scar on his forehead was dribbling blood into his eyes. His fingers ghosted the knob but he never touched it. He threw his head back, gasping, and everything went cloudy and dark. The two men looked at each other, smirking. “Interesting,” Snape commented, watching the memory begin to form into a slightly different scenario that started again in the hallway where Harry was once laying unconscious. “So his scar ruptured and rendered him unconscious the moment before he woke James up. Oh, I can’t wait to see how this plays out.”

The two former Gryffindor pests Snape dearly hated came into view and began arguing over something indiscernible. Harry’s door flew open and he stepped into the hallway, watching Sirius attack and murder James. It grew dark as they watched Sirius drop down on top of the corpse for absolutely no reason at all. When it lightened again, Harry came out of his bedroom again for a third time and found them in a crumpled heap at his feet and began sucking his thumb with Moony dangling from that hand, backing away in horror to find a telephone, praying he’d know how to call for help if he found one.

They pulled their heads up, disappointed. Snape frowned at the lack of evidence they had despite probing this child’s mind for months. “We’ll try again in the morning. I’m gonna keep him here all week, say he came down with something. We’ll find what we’re looking for.” He moved to Harry and began untying him from the chair. “Riddle, one more question before I put you in the cupboard for the night.” Harry’s head bobbled around. Snape held him by the chin. “Is there anything else you can tell us about that diary? Have you spoken to your father about it recently?”

Harry nodded enthusiastically. “Yesyesyesyesyesyesyes the diary. He gave meinmy pocket. It’s in my pocket. Memoriesmemories! Hegavemememories to-” Snape gripped him, forcing the gag back into his mouth and binding his wrists and ankles together while Moody went through his pockets. “I need a sleep draught, a dreamless one.”

“Jackpot.” The ex-Auror was grinning, jiggling the bottled memories Harry was ranting about. In his excitement, he almost missed it but now he was looking in the direction of the tall balcony. His electric blue eye swivelled upward, landing on someone hiding under an invisibility cloak. “What in the-”

Snape flinched as the room lit up the bright colour of green, alert to the unknown presence on the balcony above them. He drew his wand, pointing it over his head, hearing Moody topple over behind him but seeing no one. He pulled Harry to his feet and pinned him to him to use as a shield.

_“He trusted you.”_

“Reveal yourself or I kill him,” he replied.

“No you won’t. We both know he’s the only thing keeping you alive.”

Snape remained in control over his emotions. Harry was still quite loopy, unable to comprehend what was going on around him. He used that to his advantage, inching him back toward the door to escape. He kept his eyes on the balcony but the unseen intruder had moved down the staircase and was standing in front of them now.

“You won’t harm him. It’s not in your nature. Just let him go so we can talk.”

Snape clutched onto the unsteady boy, jabbing his wand in his neck. “Show yourself. Who are you? What do you want?”

“You’ve been doing this to him for months, haven’t you? Now that I’m here to protect him, that won’t be happening anymore. And that woman you’ve been looking for, Vance? She’s dead, so you know. She’s dead because I stole her life-force in order to exist. You would never have guessed that because you don’t understand the importance of everlasting life, Severus.”

The triple agent shrugged. “We had nothing to go on when she disappeared. And his boy was here; completely accessible, so vulnerable and ripe for the plucking. How could we resist?”

The Cloak of Invisibility slipped away and the boy hidden beneath it smiled and showed the Headmaster his forearm, slapping the tattooed skin to stir him from his sudden frozen shock. “He’s already been alerted, he’s on his way here. He’s not happy about this, Severus, you’ve been a very bad boy.”

“You…how is this possible?”

Tom Marvolo Riddle smirked. “The diary, of course. The one you had Vance studying. She really fancied me, I’m such a charmer.” He glanced at Harry, who was waking up out of his stupor. He held up his wand, flicking it at the potion stores. “Let’s go get that sleep draught you mentioned earlier. He doesn’t need to know what’s going on here.”

Snape kept Harry between them as he backed up into the stores. “And what is going on here?”

“He still needs you,” Tom said, and plucked a bottle off a shelf. He pocketed his wand and held his hands up, showing him the potion. “Just going to give this to him, he’s waking up.” Seeing Snape allow it, he eased the gag out of the boy’s mouth and tipped his chin up. “Okay, Harry, I need you to swallow this for me.”

“Okay, daddy,” he mumbled, and swallowed the potion. Within seconds he slumped in the headmaster’s arms.

Tom looked at the floor. “Put him down, pocket your wand. We’ll wait for our master to arrive so we can all talk.”

“I doubt he’ll want to talk.” He kept Harry in place, seeing Riddle pull his wand back out from his robes. He inched his way back to the door. “Tell him it was nothing personal for me. Although, that’s not true at all. I’ll let his boy go once I’m safe.”

The tall, lanky boy walked over to the ex-Auror’s corpse and crushed the bottled memories from Harry’s pocket with the heel of his shoe. Wisps of silvery smoke drifted away and disappeared. “I can’t allow you to leave.”

It was difficult holding Harry’s dead weight up, keep his wand out and open the door behind him but Snape groped around and found the latch. “He won’t be harmed.”

“You don’t seem to understand,” Tom said, as he made his way to the door, stopping briefly to snatch up the cloak.

“I swear if you don’t let me leave I’ll hurt him,” Snape warned.

“It was unfortunate your friend could see me,” Tom said, pulling the cloak back over himself to disappear. “I wasn’t supposed to kill anyone unless I had to…Don’t make me have to again, Severus.”

“Why would he let me live?” He shivered, having lost sight of the cold-hearted boy. He was losing this battle, Harry was getting so heavy but he could not drop his guard for a second to levitate him.

Tom tittered. “It looks like you’re struggling there a little bit. Here, let me take him.” He brushed up against Snape, feeling him flinch. “And to answer your question; you still have to run the school, that’s why.”

“I doubt that,” Snape said. He hefted Harry up in his arm. His muscles were quivering.

“I’ll admit,” Tom said, now standing in front of him, blocking his path. “I was taken by surprise when I followed you into the headmaster’s office. He told me about Moody but not that he was a friend of yours or that he might be here in the school. That must mean you are working for the Order of the Phoenix, yes?”

Snape shrugged. “My reasons for doing this are my own.”

“I thought I might have to kill you both right then and there and not get to observe what you two were up to. Glad he didn’t see me earlier.”

Snape leaned up against the wall by the staircase, knowing he wasn’t going to get any further without either dropping Harry or getting really lucky. “Did he tell you what he does to this child while he’s alone with him?”

Tom stopped giggling. “What do you mean?”

He could tell that Tom had moved from the doorway. He was off to his side, an arm’s length away. “Harry confessed it during one of our detentions some weeks back. Your master has been molesting him since the age of 11, or possibly younger. He doesn’t remember as the monster’s wiped this child’s memory so many times he’s damaged his mind.”

Tom snorted. “And I’m supposed to what- care?”

Snape blinked. “I thought maybe you might. I was wrong.”

“Yes, you are wrong. Who cares what they do? You’ve done far worse.”

“A small sacrifice to a greater good,” he replied, feigning indifference. “If we could have prevented this future Dark Lord from becoming anything like his father and stopping that bastard from destroying our world in the meantime it’s all worth it.”

“A pity you’re such a failure, you had great potential.” Tom’s eyes moved to the bottom of the staircase, spotting his master’s assent. They locked eyes. Tom pointed to Severus and drew his wand-tip across his neck. The older man gave him a nod before he reached the landing.

“My lord,” Snape said, addressing the man as he closed the distance between them.

Voldemort stood in front of them while he looked Harry over. “Give him to me,” he said, livid, with blood vessels bursting in the whites of his eyes. _“Imperio!_ ” he said, catching the man off-guard as he ripped the unconscious boy away from him.

“He must be a very skilled Occlumens,” Tom commented while he removed the cloak. “To have you fooled so easily.”

“Quite. You’ll have to keep an eye on him to be sure he hasn’t thrown the curse off.” The Dark Lord had Harry on the floor. He was on his knees beside him, freeing his limbs. “I knew something was up. I thought it would have been Regulus, though. Did they mention him at all? What about Sirius?”

“No, not out of context, anyway. But I don’t trust Regulus. He lurks around Harry.”

Lifting him up into his arms, Lord Voldemort gave his younger self a tip of the head. “Good work. Make Snape get rid of Moody’s corpse. I need you to get into the Restricted Section and look for a way to get ghosts out of your house and find that Slytherin book for me. Don’t forget to check up on Snape twice a day to be sure he’s not fighting the curse off. I’m taking Harry home.”

Tom tipped his head back at his older self. “Absolutely, Voldemort. I’ll take care of everything.”

The Dark Lord turned to leave. “And you,” he said, nudging Snape with a shoulder. “Get back to work, you fucking traitor. Your pathetic life is mine now. I’m going to use you to take what’s left of the Order apart. You’re all finished.”

* * *

Harry opened his eyes to the bright rays of sun shining through his bedroom window. He winced, recoiling from it by curling up under his duvet. He laid unmoving for a moment while the fuzziness of sleep receded from his damaged mind. He sat up, rubbing his chin and locked eyes with Bellatrix. “How did I get here?” he asked her.

“Daddy brought you home last night. I’m so glad he did.” She was sitting on the edge of the bed fawning and cooing at him. “I missed my widdle ‘arry so much.”

Harry groaned. “Knock it off, woman, you and I both know you were a terrible mother to me. Why start now?”

“He wants you to believe that! He’s fixed your mind!” she screamed, scowling at the boy. Phantom blood oozed from her neck and flowed like lava over the chain dress. “I remember, Harry! I remember how much you loved me!”

“Alright, alright,” Harry said, clapping his hands over his ears. They were damn near bleeding from her shouting. “You win, okay? You were a good mother and Tom fixed my mind to forget you. I suppose he killed you, too?”

“Ungrateful little bastard, mock me all you want,” she hissed, tearing her hair out in tufts as she dragged herself to the door. “I know he murdered me, I just can’t remember it.” She passed through the door but stopped, turning to look at the boy. She pointed at him with a blood-soaked finger. “But it’s coming back to me, bit by bit. There’s something here. I left something here that will prove it. You did love me, Harry! You did! I will find it and prove to you that you loved me.”

Harry felt his heart swell with pity for the poor sod. In some sad way he really did wish that what she said was true.

_“What did I tell you, bitch? Stay out of his goddamn room!”_

_“Fucking kill yourself, you monster! You’ve made him hate me! THIS IS YOUR FAULT!”_

Looking around but not seeing his Moony, Harry curled up into himself, hugging his covers against his chest. Every time one of his parents would scream it made him flinch uncomfortably. He could never get used to the fights, the violence, the damage they caused the other. At least there was no more violence.

_“Get the fuck out of my house!”_

_“MAKE ME!”_

_“Move out of my way!”_

_“Yeah, going to ravage our son again, you disgusting pervert? STAY OUT OF HIS ROOM!”_

“Please, mummy, stop!” Harry shouted, feeling himself fighting back the urge to cry.

Bellatrix looked over Lord Voldemort’s shoulder as he entered the master bedroom. “I’m sorry, Harry,” she said, bowing her head.

“It’s alright, Bella, I’m fine. Go on now.” He shooed her away.

Tom slammed the door in her face and dove onto the bed, taking Harry in his arms. “Gods, I’ve missed you!”

“What? Already? I haven’t even had a piss yet!”

“Fine, hurry back,” the lord said, releasing the boy to run off to the adjoining bath. “And brush your teeth!” He let his dressing gown fall open. His cock was already growing hard just laying eyes on his vision of perfection. He wrapped his fingers around it, stroking it harder while he thought about all the naughty little places he wanted to stick it in.

Harry returned, leaning up against the frame of the door to watch him touching himself with the sweetest grin plastered on his face. “You look adorable,” he said, blushing and giggling as he walked to the bed and dropped down on top of him. He swatted his father’s hand away and gripped his cock. “Missed you. Missed this.”

“Merlin Harry,” he moaned, unable to contain his lustful desire.

“You wanna fuck me, daddy?” Harry asked him and kissed him full on the mouth. Their tongues met, scraping in furious need.

“Gods, yes,” he replied, almost choking on his and Harry’s mingled saliva. He took him into his arms, cradling him, spoiling him. “Did baby miss his daddy?” he asked, sweeping the fringe from the boy’s eyes and clamping his lips to his neck.

“I did,” he said back, and pursed his lips in mock pout. They could hear the ghost rattling her chains and wailing outside the door. He detached his father’s mouth from his throat to look at him, and rubbed the creases of the man’s forehead away with a fingertip. “Stop thinking about her. Think about me.”

Lord Voldemort flicked his wand to silence the room. “She’s just such a nuisance. Always following me around, screaming at me.”

Harry climbed off the bed and padded across the room. “I’ll make it better,” he said, looking over a variety of fragrant, flavoured lubricants displayed on the vanity. He had become quite skilled at pleasing the man. He plucked a bottle flavoured with cherry from the glass surface and turned to rejoin his father on the bed. “Sit up on the side,” he said, eyeing his erection. He dropped to his knees in front of Voldemort as he settled in over the edge, planting his shapely toes on either side of Harry. The boy drew the tip of his tongue up the length of the man’s left calf, over his bent knee and across the inner part of his thigh until he reached his groin to nestle into. He doused him in cherry juice and kitten-licked his hung scrotum while taking his rigid prick in his hand.

The handsome lord’s eyes closed on their own. He sunk his long fingers into the mass of messy black hair tickling his inner thighs and began hissing in Parseltongue. His head lolled around, its weight too heavy to worry about as the euphoria from receiving fellatio from the prettiest mouth he’d ever had on his cock took over all coherent thought away. He opened one eye, it locking with Harry’s, who was looking up at him in awe. His pink tongue was proffered against his hardness, his hand had found his own straining erection. His son was touching himself under his knickers while he sucked him off, looking up at him with a sultry gaze, so beautiful, so sexy. The lord gnashed his teeth at the vision.

His hips shifted to thrust back against the soft tissue of his son’s wet, warm mouth as the boy took the length of it the the back of his throat. “Oh, honey,” he whispered into the scent of cherries clouding around him, and Harry blushed, fawning his eyelashes over his pinked cheeks. The wicked man slid deeper into his throat, feeling a tug in his balls and the warmth spreading throughout his body. His fingers clenched in his hair, he threw his head back as he pumped warm milk on Harry’s sweet face.

Harry giggled, covering his swollen lips with the tips of his fingers, pleased with himself for making daddy so happy. Lord Voldemort took him by the hand and fell back against the mattress, bringing him up on top of him. “I came in my knickers,” Harry whispered against his lips before nuzzling into the crook of his neck to feel the hum of his father’s throat as he chuckled and squeezed him in his embrace.

“We’ll have to have a bath. I’ll bathe my pretty boy nice and slow, head to toe, maybe fuck you, make you come for me again. How does that sound, honey?”

Harry breathed in the scent of his father and gave off a contented sigh. “I think we’re going to have a lovely holiday, daddy.”

“That we are, Harry,” the Dark Lord said, sweeping the boy from the bed, carrying him off to the bath in his arms like a bride. “That we are.”


	12. Secrets and Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellatrix remembers the night she died. Harry finds out what a monster his father truly is. Sirius Black reveals himself and changes everything.

Lord Voldemort was resting in his overstuffed chair in his large office, going over stacks of papers. Lucius Malfoy was sitting at the Lord’s desk mimicking him. A Quick-Quotes Quill floated beside him jotting down everything he said. Harry and Draco were lying on their stomachs on the floor. Harry was whispering in Parseltongue to Nagini. The snake slithered between the boys, moving off toward the desk and began coiling around the elder Malfoy’s legs, her head poking up between his thighs. He jumped, startled, shouting “What in Merlin’s name?!” The boys burst with laughter, kicking their legs in the air as the man jerked back, nearly toppling over on his chair to hug his knees into his chest.

Voldemort hissed at the snake, pointing to the door to send her away. He looked down at the floor and gave Harry a hard nudge with his toe. “You think thats funny, do you?”

The boys looked up at him, bobbing their heads. “Yes, actually.”

“Yes, hilarious,” Lucius murmured, glaring at them.

“Ugh, isn’t there someplace else you can be annoying at? I cannot wait until you go back to school,” Voldemort grumbled. “We’ve got loads of work to get through, take a hike!” Again, he pointed at the door and gave Harry another nudge.

Rolling his eyes, Harry got up off the floor. Draco followed him out of the room and up the stairs. Harry took his hand, pulling him along through the endless hallway until they reached the last last door leading to the master bedroom. “C’mere, you,” he said, kicking the door shut and dropping back on the bed, bringing Draco down on top of him. “I knew he’d send us away if I did that. Been annoying him all morning so I could be alone with you.”

“Such a clever little lad, aren’t you?” He pressed their lips together and cupped the back of Harry’s neck. His fingers slipped under the waistband of his jeans. He began massaging Harry’s prick while Harry rocked his thigh between Draco’s legs.

“What are you two doing!?” Bellatrix was hovering next to the bed, glaring down at the startled boys.

“Why are you in here?” Harry said, growling.

She had her hands on her hips. “I came to ask you if you’d ask Nagini to have a look around for something that I’ve lost, that’s why. I’m never going to get any grandchildren, am I?”

“Probably not.” Harry went to the door and called for the snake. Within a few minutes Nagini entered the room and moved over to the bed. _“Sorry for getting you into trouble earlier,”_ he said to her. “ _Bella wants to know if you could keep an eye out for something she’s lost. We don’t even know what it might be but if you’ve seen anything unusual let us know, okay?”_

 _“Oh,”_ Nagini replied, moving onto the bed. She looked over at the wardrobe. _“Under there. There’s a present hidden beneath. Could that be what she’s lost?”_

“Was it a present, mummy?” he asked her.

“Yes!” she screamed, as the memory of the night she died flooded into her phantom mind. “YES! He did it! He did murder me!”

Draco climbed off the bed and got down on the floor to fish around for the present while Harry tried to calm the ghost down. His fingers brushed over the small parcel. He grabbed it and pulled it out.

“Open it!” she shouted. “Open it, give it to Harry!”

He unwrapped it and held it up to the light. It was the locket of Salazar Slytherin. He gave it to Harry, who opened the locket and peered inside at the moving picture of he and his mother dancing, hugging, holding the other in their arms, both happy as clams. There was a folded up note inside, as well. Unfolding it, tears sprung to his eyes. It was in his penmanship, it was a letter he’d written to Bella some years back from Hogwarts, telling her how much he missed and loved her. It slipped from his fingers. He had absolutely no recollection of the the events in the photo nor ever writing that letter. It was true what she said; that man had killed her and wiped his memories of her from his mind.

* * *

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Harry dragged Draco down the hallway, down the stairs, through the sitting room and into the parlour. “What was all the shouting about?” Lord Voldemort asked, popping his head into the room.

“YOU!” Bellatrix screamed, rushing towards him. “You did this! I remember! You murdered me!”

“Oh, do shut up, bitch,” he said, rolling his eyes. He muffled the room as he watched Harry pull Draco into the fireplace and grab up a handful of floo powder. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“This!” he shouted, throwing a wadded up letter at the man. He pointed at the ghost. “She isn’t lying! You murdered her and took my memories of her away!” Before the man could respond, Harry threw the floo powder on the ground and shouted “Malfoy Manor!” and was gone.

Draco gasped, seeing the man’s eyes turn blood red. He, too, threw his floo powder and shouted the same.

* * *

Lord Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy stepped into the manor, their wands out, angry glares set in place. Both stopped abruptly, seeing Narcissa with her arms around Harry, comforting him. She was glaring back at them. “Did you know, Lucius? You going to wipe my memory of her, too?” Her voice was dark and quiet, devoid of emotion.

“Oh, shite,” Lucius whispered under his breath. “Of course not.”

Voldemort clenched his teeth. “Things got out of hand. You know how she got-”

“I don’t want to hear it! I always wondered why Harry acted so coolly about her after her death. She was my sister, my best friend. She’d do anything for you. Harry’s staying here until the boys return to school. Lucius, you can stay there with the man who murdered my sister until I can stand to look at you.” She turned around, taking Harry out of the room without a hint of fear for the Dark Lord.

Voldemort looked insulted. He took a step forward, intent on taking Harry home. “Absolutely not-”

Lucius stopped him, pulling him back. “It’s best we go. Trust me, let them cool off. I’ll take care of Narcissa.”

* * *

Harry woke up, his head was pounding. His father’s persistent begging for forgiveness had kept him awake most of the night. He threw Moony across the room. Draco sat up beside him and placed a kiss on the boy’s shoulder. “Is he still bothering you?”

“Yeah,” Harry grumbled. They were back inside Hogwarts, having arrived the evening before. Classes would resume the next day. “I’m going to ask Professor Black if there’s anything I can take tonight to keep him out of my head so I can get some sleep.” He climbed off the bed and pulled a pair of jeans on.

Draco grabbed his clothes and pulled a dressing gown on. “I’m gonna have a shower. See you at breakfast.”

Having left to check on Snape, Tom was not in the dorm room.

Harry slipped his loafers on and pulled a t-shirt over his head. He walked quickly down the passages leading to the head of house’s quarters and knocked on Black’s door.

“Harry!” he cried, smiling, “I was just about to come and wake you! Guess what I found?”

“What?” Harry asked, curious.

Regulus held up a book. The book of Slytherin.

“Oh, brilliant!” Harry shouted, grabbing it and flipping it open. “Where did you find it?”

“I found it quite by accident, actually. It was trapped in the fireplace, wedged up in the chute. We’d set a fire and the room filled with smoke, and as I cleaned it out - there it was! That’s why you couldn’t summon it.” He looked over Harry’s shoulder as he skimmed through the pages. “I was reading it, I hope you don’t mind. Did you know that there is a chamber under the school? I’m dying to see it.”

“Yeah, my father’s mentioned it. It’d be a great find.”

“We should have a look before breakfast. Who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Snuffles rubbed up against the boy’s legs. Harry leaned down to scratch his ears. His father would want to know the book was found, but Harry was still far too angry to inform him. He could wait until he was ready to speak to him again. “Yeah, sounds like fun,” he said.

* * *

Regulus and Harry walked through the corridors, the large black dog trailing behind. “It’s up here. I’ve heard it’s amazing. Unfortunately, as the book says it’s needed, I can’t speak the snake language to open it.” He pointed to the girl’s bathroom and pushed the door open as they approached. “It claims there’s an enormous statue of Slytherin himself deep inside. This must be what your father wanted you to do. This is a remarkable find…if you can open it.”

“I’ll try,” he murmured, studying the abandoned bathroom. “Have you seen anything that might give you cause to think it might be the entrance? Like levers or something odd?”

Regulus shook his head. “I hadn’t really checked anything too closely. I wouldn’t know what to look for.”

Snuffles dredged through the enormous puddle on the floor and dropped his head to lap up the stagnant water. “No, don’t drink that-it’s filthy. C’mon,” Harry said, twisting the taps of a sink for fresh water. “Hmm, doesn’t work. Oh, this one does.” He adjusted the flow, leaving it running for the dog to drink.

Looking at his watch, Regulus sighed. “We’ve only got an hour, we really should keep looking.”

“If I knew what to look for I’d find it,” Harry said. He played with the broken tap, running his fingers along the smooth copper and he felt it. It was subtle, a crude etching in the metal, but he was certain he understood as he took a closer look. “It’s a snake.”

“What?” Regulus turned around, his eyes lit up and his lips formed a perfect ‘O’. “Have you found something?”

“Just here, there’s a snake scratched into the broken tap.” Slowly, it became clearer. His eyes went out of focus as he leaned in closer, massaging his fingertips over the snake carving. The soft words slipped from Harry’s lips. “ _Open up_.”

Regulus pulled him away, hearing the jolting cracks and feeling the ground shift beneath their feet. “Oh, you’ve done it!” he whispered, glancing at Snuffles. “Brilliant, Harry, truly brilliant. You really are as clever as I’d hoped…and so fucking gullible.”

Harry tensed to strike, but it was too late. A wand was poking him in the back, his own slipped free from his pocket. “I knew it,” he murmured, not bothering to turn around. “I knew I couldn’t trust you. So, where is he?”

The large black dog nuzzled his calf.

“He’s right here.” Stunning Harry, catching his body, Regulus arched an eyebrow at the dog as he held the boy up over the pipe. “I’ll be back with the other as soon as I can find him. Make him comfortable, as comfortable as can be while he watches us murder his father.”

Sirius Black hid his maniacal grin under his fingertips, chewing on a jagged nail. “Oh, yes, what a spectacular idea.”

* * *

“Such the brave little lad, aren’t you?” Sirius ran his fingers over the scar on Harry’s forehead. He had aged a lot since Harry last saw him. The long years in Azkaban had taken a toll on his handsome face and large muscular frame. “Does he know you’re here yet? Can he tell when something very, very bad is about to happen to his boy?” He laughed to himself, standing over Harry’s restrained body.

The boy closed his mind, unwilling to inform his father of this situation. He looked next to him, to the empty chair that Sirius had transfigured from a old bone. “Who’s the other chair for?” he asked, ignoring the man’s question.

“It’s for your dainty little boyfriend. He gets to watch us kill his daddy, too. I would never have guessed you’d turn out to be exactly like You-Know-Who. Draco, yes, but you…Your father was a good man.” The words bit deeply in the darkness.

Sirius unleashed the urge to caress him, grazing his dirtied fingertips along the boy’s cheek.

Harry stared ahead. Quietly, he twisted and worked at the ropes binding his hands behind the chair.

Sirius smiled. “No use trying to escape. It’s just you and me now…and I want you to feel exactly how I did when your grandfather woke me up that night, Harry. I want you to know what a truly sadistic bastard he is.” He hunched down in front of him. The tip of a wand jabbed the boy in the chair deep under his chin. “I’m so looking forward to watching those beautiful green eyes of yours weep for me… _Crucio!”_

Horrible pain ripped into his soul. Harry screamed, feeling it slash through his lips as every muscle in his weak frame tensed to the point of snapping.

“Never had a taste before?” Sirius rubbed his wand with the tips of his fingers as the boy slumped into his chair. “Have you called him yet? Is he coming?”

“I’ve felt it before,” he said through a wracking cough. Only one torch flickered against the wall in front of him, casting the large corridor in bleakness. Harry’s glasses were gone, and the darkness merely added to the horror of hopelessness. A line of saliva leaked from bottom lip. His muscles contracted and twitched.

Sirius reared back and slapped him hard across the cheek. Harry winced, but jerked his head back into place. “Still a bit of fight left in you? Good, I want loads of screaming out of you while I’m killing him.”

Harry went silent again. His mind was reeling from pain. His ears pricked, hearing the spell being cast once more. Before he could even brace himself his body seized up, conforming to the wooden backing of the chair. His screams echoed throughout the chamber. And then it was over again and Sirius was standing over him with a thick coil of rope in his hands.

Unable to control the tremors attacking every muscle in his body, Harry remained motionless while Sirius wound rope around his neck and twisted his arms up painfully high behind him, then fastened the rein between his wrists. “I don’t want you to break any bones, yet,” He cupped his chin, wiping the line of blood leaking from his lips. “We’ve only just begun. You see, if you struggle, move your arms…you’ll strangle yourself.

“When they killed your father you were in the next room. Surely you heard something, saw them…” Harry kept his attention on the wall in front of him, refusing to listen. Sirius sat fully in his lap, pressing his weak body deeper against the backing of the chair. He loomed closely in front of his face, his tongue darting in and out of his mouth, swiping Harry’s bottom lip. “You look so much like him. Do you remember him at all?” Harry nodded as best he could, which only stiffened the rope around his throat. He tensed up as the flow of oxygen slowly cut itself off. Noting his purple face, Sirius reached behind him and yanked his wrists up higher. “Come on, Harry, you’re not that weak. I managed to take the curse seven times full on. Is he coming?”

Saying nothing, wishing he’d just shut up and kill him, Harry stayed silent.

“The only glory throughout this nightmare was finding out Bellatrix suffered as much as I did. But Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort- untouchable…until now. As we speak, Regulus is rounding up your pretty little boyfriend and bringing him here. He’ll be in for such a shock.” Sirius stood up and brushed off his clothing. “I have to go find my knife…You’ll be all right here alone for a while, won’t you?” His deep-set grey eyes flickered with mirth, forcing another uncomfortable shudder from Harry’s body. “I can’t think of any other way to get your clothes off of you without untying you. Be back soon.”

No crying, Harry told himself. No tears for the man who single-handedly destroyed his life. If it wasn’t for Sirius he could have stayed with his father, he could have had a future, he could have been happy. Riddles do not cry…Lord Voldemort would be so proud of his strength no matter how badly he wanted to break down and beg for mercy. He’d never give the escaped prisoner the pleasure of knowing how frightened he was.

* * *

Regulus waited patiently by the Prefect’s bathroom until Draco stepped out fluffing his hair. “Come quickly!” he shouted, taking the boy by the arm. “It’s Harry- He’s in trouble. I need your help.”

“What the hell? Was it McLaggen, Professor?” Draco ran closely behind him down each staircase and past every hall, his mind fixed on finding his best friend.

“In here, Draco, hurry!” he shouted, shoving the girl’s bathroom door open and ushering the confused blond inside. “You see that pipe there, he’s fallen down it, been calling for you. You have your wand, don’t you?”

Draco groped around at his pockets as he peered down into the blackness of the pipe. “Yeah it’s-”

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” The wand sailed from his hand to Regulus’s before he fathomed thinking about a counter-spell. Another spell was shouted as the thunderstruck boy gaped back at him, binding him up with thick magical ropes. “Time to pay for your father’s sins, darling!” he shouted, kicking out, knocking Draco into the pipe.

Landing in a heap, the clattering of something sharp and brittle poking and splintering under his weight, Draco groaned out from the sudden shock of landing so harshly. A coil of rope had wrapped itself around him from neck to ankle, snaking and tightening as he struggled to shuck it free. His arms were crossed in front of him, pinned to his abdomen, making the effort of standing near impossible. “You fuck! Where in the hell am I?” he shouted, angrier than anything else at the moment.

Hearing his own voice echo, the stir of something in the darkness moved toward him, Draco began to panic. He struggled, twisting his arms about, feeling the magical rope cut into the flesh through his clothing. His light grey eyes were wide and searching, following the sound for some sign of not being alone.

* * *

“That was four, and how many did I say? I think seven, didn’t I? _Crucio!_ ”

The rope around Harry’s neck cut off his scream. Sirius pulled his wand back and looked off toward the faint light given off from the foot of the pipe. “Ah, we have company!” Stuffing an oily rag behind Harry’s teeth, he tore off a strip of his shredded t-shirt and cleave-gagged him with it. He clapped him hard on the cheek to bring the half-dead child back into reality. “I’ll count that one even though it was too short. You look rather ill…don’t want to kill you.”

Sirius ran over to the cluttered pile of bones, seeing his brother drop down from the pipe and drag Draco into view. “Bring him here,” he said, pointing to a dark corner of the corridor.

“Where’s the statue of Slytherin?” Regulus asked, frowning.

“There’s another entrance to the chamber but Harry refuses to open it. This is fine here, only that bastard can open the entrance to the pipe now.” He tore off a large piece of Harry’s t-shirt and stuffed it into Draco’s mouth while his brother bound him to the chair. He removed Harry’s gag as he climbed back into his lap. “Tell us why your father’s been following you around everywhere under the cloak. Where is he now? Is he still in the school?”

Harry glanced over to Draco, hearing him whimpering softly and struggling to free himself. “Calm down, Draco. It’s going to be okay, love.”

Sirius slapped the black-haired boy hard across the face. “No, it’s not going to be okay, you little fuck.” He thrust his knife under Draco’s chin. “Call him or I slit this Nancy-boy’s throat.”

Harry gasped. “Alright, I will, don’t hurt him.”

“Tell him to bring Lucius and only Lucius with him or you’ll both be dead within seconds of their arrival.”

Nodding, Harry squeezed his eyes shut. He concentrated solely on his father, who had been frantically trying to contact him through the scar the first time he felt a jolt of panicked fear delivered by his son. “ _We’re in a corridor in front of the chamber you told me about. He said only bring Lucius or they’ll kill us.”_

_“We’re here, Harry! We’re coming.”_

_“He’s going to kill you, daddy…”_

_“Don’t you worry about that.”_

Hating himself for being so stupid, a single tear slid down his cheek. “They’re coming,” he said.

* * *

Lord Voldemort handed Tom a book. “I need you to do two things for me. First, override my curse on Snape with your own and give him this diary, make him communicate with it. Next, sneak into the chamber and release the beast.”

Tom gaped at him. “Shouldn’t I go down with you? They’ll kill you before I get there!”

Lucius looked away. “That doesn’t matter, we can’t take any chances with the boys’ lives.”

Voldemort clapped Tom’s arm. “You know why I brought you out of the diary. This day was coming, we all knew it.”

Tom gave him a nod of affirmation. “Yes, sir. I will do as you say. And might I add,” he said as Voldemort turned to leave. “It is an honour, sir. A great honour joining with you.”

Understanding his meaning, Lord Voldemort smiled.

* * *

Lord Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy entered the corridor and came into view, both eyeing their sons. Draco looked half-dead; strapped tightly in his chair with a blood-soaked gag poking through his lips. Harry just looked dead.

“Welcome, gentlemen.” Sirius said, smiling at them. “Be a dove and snap your wands.”

Voldemort held his wand up and snapped it in two. “Let them go now, you’ve got us.”

“Oh, no,” Regulus replied, yanking Draco’s head up from his chest. “The boys get the pleasure of watching you both die. Then we’ll release them.”

Lucius snapped his wand and threw it on the ground. “You swear you won’t kill them? They’re innocent.”

“Innocent? HARDLY!” Sirius screamed. He dug his finger into Harry’s hair and wrenched his head back. He held the large knife to his throat. “On your knees, you fucking bastards.”

Voldemort paled. He held his hands up and dropped to the ground on his knees. “Please, he’s a good boy, don’t hurt him.”

“Tell him,” Sirius hissed, threatening to drag the blade across Harry’s throat. “Tell him what you two did to his father and I’ll let him live. He’ll know what a diseased maniac you truly are and he’ll never become like you!”

Harry opened his eyes and looked at his father. After finding out what he had done to his mother he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear this new information. His world was falling apart all around him. Unable to speak, he just watched him, seeing the truth in his eyes.

“I only did it to save him,” Voldemort admitted. “I didn’t want him turning into the two of you.”

“You failed that spectacularly, didn’t you? These two brats go at it like rabbits every chance they can get. Now tell them, you sonuvabitch.”

With a sigh, Lord Voldemort dropped his head. “It’s true, Harry. We killed your father. We framed Sirius for his murder.”

Harry felt himself crumble. He began to cry. He looked back at Sirius, feeling the knife move away. The man grasped his shoulders and gave them a squeeze. The floodgates opened and the boy sobbed deeply, gutturally, pain crippling his strong will, crushing it. He struggled to breathe through it, and Sirius pulled the gag out of his mouth to allow him more breath. Regulus did the same to Draco, who had also succumbed to tears seeing his father kneeling in front of him confessing his murderous sins.

Satisfied, the brothers raised their wands. “Say ‘good-bye’ to your fathers, boys,” Sirius said, followed immediately by the words “ _Avada Kedavra!_ ” Regulus shouted the same and together The Dark Lord and Lucius Malfoy collapsed on the ground, dead.

Both boys screamed, letting the horror of the event tear from their throats. Sirius climbed into Harry’s lap, grabbing his chin. “You see? It wasn’t me! I did not kill your father, Harry! Look at me!”

“GET OFF OF ME!” Harry screamed in his face. “You just did…”

Sirius shook with disbelief. “He is not your father! James was your father!”

“Just kill me…” he whispered. “I don’t want to live anymore.”

“Don’t say that, Harry,” Sirius whispered, caressing his face. “You’ll come to forgive me. That man was the devil himself.”

“Just give him some time,” Regulus said, edging his brother off of the boy. “Let’s check their bodies, see if they’ve got anything on them.”

Draco leaned into Harry’s side as much as his bonds would allow. “What are we gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” Harry whimpered back, leaning into his cousin’s side in return. “I just don’t know…”

* * *

Under the invisibility cloak, beckoning the basilisk to follow, Tom Riddle gasped. His eyes went wide as a powerful jolt of energy rippled through his body. He stumbled and fell to the ground at the entrance of the chamber. The enormous serpent slithered past him in search of the two men. He lay silent for a moment until he adjusted to the sensation of being alive again. His eyes opened and he looked around, seeing the monster moving onward off in the distance. Cupping his forehead, he concentrated on the boy, having no time to physically warn him.

Harry’s head snapped up in shock. “Close your eyes, Draco,” he whispered as quietly as he could, watching Sirius and Regulus inspecting their dead fathers. He screwed his eyes shut, sensing the presence in the corridor, hearing its whispers of death and destruction filling his head like a sweet lullaby. “Don’t open them for anything, no matter what happens!” They could hear it approaching behind them, slithering through the corridor, skipping pebbles and crunching bone. The brothers stood up, looking behind them in the dark.

The monstrous green serpent reared up behind the boys with its mouth open and its large yellow eyes searching. They threw curse after curse at it to no avail, and as it closed the distance between them both men froze solid where they stood.

Draco was still blindly whimpering but Harry cold hear the beast’s sweet whispers in his ears, telling him everything was going to be all right. He listened to it slither away, felt its tongue caress his face as it passed and heard footsteps approach them from behind. A hand dropped down over each boys’ shoulder, startling them. “You can open your eyes now, it’s over.”

Harry looked back, certain his father had returned to life. Instead, a much younger man stood over them. In fact, they looked to be around the same age. He looked like Tom, sounded like Tom, but Tom was still lying dead on his back under the two brothers’ paralysed forms in front of him. He couldn’t possibly be Tom. “What’s going on?”

Their magical bonds had dissipated once the brothers became petrified yet they sat in the chairs as rigid as stone from fear and sorrow. “It’s alright, I’m still Tom, Harry. I’m a younger version of your father. I’m going to be taking care of you from now on.” He nudged Draco out of his stupor of tears. “Don’t worry, by tomorrow all of this is going to seem like a bad dream. Trust me.” Wordlessly, he erased the horror from the white-haired boy’s mind. Unfortunately, Harry couldn’t possibly handle another memory wipe this soon. Tom could practically smell his scrambled brains from the frying they’d endured wafting through the filthy air of the corridor.

“I don’t understand,” Harry said in a little voice, feeling some trepidation toward this person claiming to be his father. “You’re just going to take his place? You’re just a kid.”

Tom pulled him into a hug as they walked toward the pipe. “Looks can be deceiving, Harry. If you wish it I’ll age my appearance to make you feel more comfortable.”

“But that still won’t make you my father.”

“Do you wish me to be like him? Don’t you hate the man for what he did to your mother and real father?”

Harry felt himself starting to cry. “Well, yeah I’m furious but…I still love him. I need him. I want you to be the part of him that loves me.”

“Oh, honey,” he breathed, pulling the boy up to his toes. “I am that man. I will always be that man. You mean the world to me.” He cupped his neck to bring their lips together, letting Harry feel his devotion and adoration come plainly through. 

“I need to say good-bye,” Harry said, looking at his father’s corpse, but Tom Riddle clasped the boys’ hands and pulled them along.

“There’s no need for that. This was all just a bad dream.” He sent Draco up the pipe and turned, taking Harry by the arms. “Look at me, darling.” He brushed the messy hair from his red tear-stained eyes. “Look what they did to you. You look like death warmed over. Let’s get you home and into the bath.” He looked behind him, down the corridor. “I wish I could bring the basilisk with us, petrify that bitch of a woman.”

Harry cocked his head. “How do you know about her?”

“I know everything,” he replied quickly. He tapped his temple and gave the boy a wink. “I’m more powerful now than my older self was. Everything is crisp, fresh, new, alive, burning hot inside of me.” He stopped Harry from looking back at the corpses again and pushed him towards the pipe. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Harry, Tom and Bellatrix stood or floated in front of the fireplace in wait for the Malfoys’ arrival. The young men were dressed to the nines. A spectacular flash of emerald green lit up the room and Narcissa, Draco and Lucius stepped into the parlour. “Oh,” Narcissa cooed, taking the boys’ hands and pulling them into her embrace. “Don’t you both just look absolutely gorgeous! This is going to be the best portrait yet!” She looked over at her sister’s ghost and cringed. “There’s absolutely nothing you can do to change? Nothing? Not even the blood?”

Bellatrix bared her teeth at the woman. “You need to stop nagging me right now! I get enough of that from these two! There is nothing I can do about this!”

“Well, at least the bastard who did this to you is finally dead. No offence, Harry.” She nudged her husband. “And mine lived. Isn’t that right, darling?”

Lucius’s eyes flicked to Tom. “That’s right, love.”

“And we get this lovely little miracle in exchange.” She caressed Tom’s soft cheek. “So sweet and innocent, nothing like that monster who created you. And so perfect for our boys. You three are going to have such a wonderful life together. I couldn’t be happier.”

“You flatter me, Mrs Malfoy,” Tom said, blushing.

“Cissy, I told you! Call me ‘Cissy’, darling.” She could not keep her hands off of him. She pulled him back into a hug and inhaled the scent of his hair. Stepping back, she nearly swooned. “Merlin, you are so handsome. What a godsend. Alright, let’s do this!”

Tom clapped Lucius on the shoulder. “After you, emperor,” he said, ushering him over to the sofa.

“Have you heard the news, Tom?” he asked, taking his place in the centre of the sofa, between Narcissa and Tom. “Arthur Weasley’s retired. The Order of the Phoenix has been officially disbanded as of last evening. All of wizarding Britain is ours.”

Draco, Bellatrix and Harry stood behind them, watching the magical paintbrush begin to move around on the gigantic canvas suspended in mid air in front of them.

Tom grinned so prettily. “That’s wonderful news. I couldn’t be happier.”

Draco leaned into Harry, nudging him with his shoulder. “Pansy had her baby last night. Turns out I’m not a father after all. It’s mixed race, it’s Blaises’s.”

Harry beamed. “That’s fantastic, really! We’ll have to send them a gift.”

“I spent all morning consoling his mother, she’s beside herself,” Narcissa added, grinning, elbowing her husband. “We really dodged a bullet there.”

“We still need an heir,” he said, looking up at his son.

Draco gaped at him. “I’ll give you an heir later, I’m still in school for pity’s sake.”

“Don’t make that face, Draco! It’ll show up in the painting. Lucius, stop bothering him.”

Tom glanced up at Harry, noting the look of sheer happiness plastered on his face. Despite everything they’d been through, every horrible thing he had done to him everything worked out just the way he wanted. He leaned back into the sofa, relaxing his muscles and his mind for the first time in his life. Harry leaned over him, tipping his chin to kiss his full lips. “I love you, Tom,” he said, lost in his eyes.

“I love you, too, Harry, more than you’ll ever know.”

“Boy’s please,” Narcissa said, blushing. “That kiss is going to be in the picture. How can I explain that off to company?”

“Sorry, Mrs Malfoy,” Tom said, dropping his head.

Bellatrix groaned.

“Oh, no,” she said, leaning over her husband to rub his shoulder. Lucius cleared his throat, growing somewhat tired of seeing his wife finding new ways to put her hands on the Dark Lord. “Don’t be like that. Personally, I’m glad I’ll get to see you and Harry’s sweet affection to each other. You’re so adorable together. You’re exactly what he needs.”

“Yes,” he said, smudging his wicked grin with the tips of his fingers. “Yes, I am.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! This is tough. I want to thank everyone who pushed me to finish it. I don't know if I could have done it without you. Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it.


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